Broken Crown
by Moriarty-assbutt
Summary: Blackfrost Medieval!AU. Sometimes a match made in court isn't a match made in heaven.
1. Never Keep a Lady Waiting

The hallway was grand, far grander than those in the palace of Midgard. There was a certain grandiose fashion to Asgard, something that Natasha knew she would take time to get used to. Standing in her plain dress in the middle of the immense hall she felt exceedingly small and insignificant.

She chewed her lip nervously, ignoring the pointed look that Ivan sent her way. She didn't want this, this life of a 'Lady in waiting', to serve a queen she barely knew. Natasha found her mind wondering back to her time spent at Midgard, albeit it was a secluded kind of life and she had often found herself feeling alienated from the rest of the city, she still missed the simplicity of it all. What she wouldn't do for another one of those days where she was free from her chores to do whatever she liked, who knew how much time she could get now to explore when she had to serve the queen.

Ivan had assured her that the position of a lady in waiting was a notable one, and that she should do whatever she could to secure such a place in the court. He had feigned interest in it all by smiling at her, telling her how excited he was for her, but she could see the desire in his eyes, the desire for power. He longed for a place in the court, to whisper ideals into the kings ear and gain some kind of influence over the city of Asgard. Natasha often mused that in a past life he must have been some sort of great leader or even king, to desire such importance.

But Natasha cared little for his suggestions that she may find a suitable husband in Asgard, it had been his leading argument that she let him drag her to this far away city.

_"Just imagine it Natalia!" _He had rasped in excitement, using the name he only ever used if her wanted something or was scolding her._ "You will get to live in the palace, where you will be surrounded by noblemen who will gladly take your hand for marriage. Does that not sound like a perfect situation?"_

But Natasha had just shaken her head, there was no real point in refusing, no matter how much she disliked the idea. He would take her to Asgard kicking and screaming if she had refused, and she knew of their financial issues all too well, despite how he tried his hardest to keep them from her. Somehow the landlords that beat at the door incessantly each day were a dead giveaway.

Ivan had tried to gain access to the court in Midgard, looking for a position of an adviser or anything that could get him close enough to King Fury. But with Ivan's well-known escapades in the taverns, he had been turned down. Now was his last chance, he had already secured a space for himself in the court of Asgard, with the help of a few acquaintances who could vouch for him to King Odin. All that was left was securing Natasha a place as a lady in waiting. She had asked Ivan why she couldn't just stay with him, but he had told her of his need for privacy in his new home and how his new position would mean he would be far to busy to keep up with her. So Natasha was to stay in the palace, in her own rooms with no one she knew. Though she prided herself on her confidence, the whole situation still made her anxious.

"Do not bite your lip so, Natasha." Ivan snapped from where he sat, watching her pace the hallway slowly. He hesitated and gave her a small forced smile. "Surely you do not fear you will be rejected? You are of a noble birth, they will accept you immediately… as long as you desist in chewing you lips, try to act proper."

"I am not nervous about becoming a lady in waiting, Ivan, I am nervous about being one." She stated plainly as she glared at the older man. "I will be left alone, and though I shall be forced into the company of the other ladies in court, I shall not see you, you will leave me."

"Natasha, you cannot expect me to look after you forever, you are a young woman now, and I have no doubt that you cannot look after yourself." He told her, though it was a half-hearted speech, as he picked that the wooden chair he sat upon with a withdrawn expression.

"You've looked after me since I was a child, yet you know nothing about me." She longed to shout it at him, to relieve herself of the anger she had felt for some time. It had yet to bubble to the surface. "Do you really think I want this?"

"I don't quite care for what you _want_ Natasha. Would you prefer we live in a run down farmhouse, with nothing to eat because we have no _money_?" She could see how he too longed to voice his anger more powerfully also, but he would not risk upsetting the court. He sighed, once again masking his anger, the way he would always do so well, and she couldn't help but pick up on his trait after observing it throughout the years. "This situation will benefit the both of us. You will marry a noble man and I will gain the kings trust and help guide this kingdom into a better future."

Natasha rolled her eyes, he sounded like he was trying to assure himself more than anything. She turned away, continuing her pacing and stopping when she heard the door to the throne room open, jolting her back into the 'proper lady' act she had feigned upon her arrival that morning.

"The queen will see you now." A young guard informed them, bowing his head slightly as Ivan rose and led Natasha into the throne room.

"Queen Frigga." Ivan smiled as he sauntered into the throne room. His tone of voice was all sweetness and admiration, a vast contrast from his irritable nature Natasha had observed only moments ago. "This is my ward, Natasha."

Natasha curtsied and looked up at the queen, indeed she was as grand and beautiful as the rumours that spread from kingdoms told. She sat upon a large golden throne, adjacent to a larger, grander one that was vacant and most probably belonged to the king.

Frigga smiled and beckoned Natasha over. "Come closer child." She spoke in a soft, silvery voice. "I can barely see you from such a distance."

Ivan bristled beside her, and Natasha could tell her was berating himself for standing so far from the queen. He placed a hand on the small of Natasha's back, gently pushing her in the queen's direction. Natasha resisted the urge to shove him off of her, he knew how much she hated him pushing her places.

Frigga leaned forward on her throne, bringing her hand to Natasha's face and tilting her chin up to observe her appearance. "She is a fair young lady," Frigga smiled, "and most sweet of countenance. With hair like that I daresay she is a fiery one." Frigga chuckled, leaning back on her throne.

"She is the exact picture of her departed and much lamented mother." Ivan divulged, a smug smile coming to rest over his lips. "Though her eyes echo those of her fathers."

"Natasha is of no relation to you." It was more of a statement then a question, and Frigga had presumably discerned this from the way that Natasha held no resemblance to Ivan whatsoever.

"No, my queen. She was bequeathed to my overlooking after the great fire of Midgard many years ago." Ivan's voice turned from its previous cheer to a tone of much seriousness. "Natasha's parents and I were greatly close in friendship. They were a noble family, the Romanov's, I believe you may have heard of them."

"Indeed I have." Frigga let a gentle smile ease over her lips, showing a sympathetic look to the red-head before her. "The Romanov family has always been welcome here in Asgard, so to have a child of the Romanovs in the court would be my pleasure."

"You are most kind, my queen." Ivan bowed, sharing a subtle wink with Natasha that told her they were successful.

"Can she sing?" Frigga asked, turning the subject from the more melancholy matters.

"I can, your ladyship, but very ill." Natasha could sense Ivan's discomfort at Natasha's truthfulness, but if it saved her from having to prove her talents to the room of noblewomen, she would much rather be straightforward and ignore the looks she was getting from the other ladies in waiting.

"What about needlework." Frigga continued, and an amused smile now taking over her lips. Natasha decided that she quite liked her, despite being rather intimidating, she had a gentleness to her that made Natasha feel comfortable.

"I can sew." Natasha affirmed with a curt nod. "Indeed, to pass the time back home I would partake in dressmaking, and on occasion… poetry."

Frigga hummed in approval. "Reading or writing?"

"Reading mostly, though sometimes I find myself writing short poems, though none of them are worthy of any merit, it is a mere hobby of mine."

"Do not be so modest." Frigga teased with a grin. "I should hope that one day you will show me these poems."

"If it pleases the queen." Natasha found herself smiling in response. Perhaps the position was not quite so unnerving as she had once thought it.

"Welcome at court."

**~x~**

"What did I tell you Natasha?" Ivan was practically jumping with joy the moment he close the door to their guest quarters, already he sprung into action, gathering his belongings to move them to his new accommodations. "You will love it here, and I will not be so far away, if that is what you truly fear."

"You company in familiar to me." Natasha began with a sigh, knowing her persuasions weren't going to work, and part of her didn't mind so much, much to her surprise. "I should not like having to adjust to a new surroundings."

"I can no longer care for you." Ivan sighed, leaning back against the wooden dining table. His expression softened, and his words almost seemed genuine, but Natasha had learned long ago to never put so much trust in him. "You have been raised without a female influence, and I do not know how to raise a young woman. I have done the best that I could under the circumstances, but it is not enough. You will be better suited with other women."

Natasha gave him a withering look. She knew that to attend the queen was a great honour, and after her meeting with her that morning she felt less anxious about the whole situation, but it didn't seem to subdue the feeling in her gut that told her not to leave, that made her long for her shabby home back in Midgard.

"Come now, Natasha, pack your belongings, someone shall be here shortly to take you to your new rooms." Ivan gave her an encouraging smile before returning to his own trunks and packing his things.

**~x~**

Her rooms overlooked the courtyard that lead to the entrance to the palace, and Natasha soon realised that she would have to grow used to the sound of horse's hooves clopping along the cobblestone, and the sounds of drunken noblemen returning from the taverns. Her room was spacious, with a large canopy bed, a wardrobe, desk and chair. There was also a modest looking hearth, and beside it sat a cushioned seat for which to sit and warm oneself in the colder seasons. It was adequate accommodation, far nicer than her home in Midgard, and it would suit her nicely.

Natasha gave a sigh, looking around her new room and back to the window, where she could see the rolling hills and woods that seemed to stretch on for miles. She made a vow to herself, that when she found herself with time to spare, she would spend it exploring the grounds, for nowhere had she seen such breathtaking scenery. Asgard was renowned for it's picturesque structures and the forests surrounding the palace, yet she had never really believed the talk, not until now.

There was a curt nock at her door and Natasha turned to see it opening. She frowned, irked by the fact that whoever was entering her quarters had not waited for her approval. She opened her mouth to protest to the intrusion, but closed it upon seeing the dark haired woman who cautiously stepped into her room. She was beautiful, dressed in a long dark red dress that loosely clung to her figure, and a golden breastplate. Her dark hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, with no visible hairs out of place whatsoever, making Natasha feel all the more inadequate in her plain, khaki green dress and a mess of red curls. From one look at her Natasha could tell she was a woman of importance, not just in garb but in the way she held herself.

"Natasha, is it?" She asked in all seriousness, holding her head high so to look down her nose at her.

"Yes." Natasha replied, trying to stifling the awkwardness that she felt. She peered at the door, reminding herself to lock it every once and a while. "I don't know who you are, but you might want to re-educate yourself on the concept of knocking."

"I'm Lady Sif." The woman gave an amused smile, assessing Natasha with her gaze. "The queen was right when she said you were a fiery one."

"_Lady_ Sif." Natasha observed, returning Sif's scrutiny. "So you serve the queen also?"

"Indeed." Sif nodded curtly in affirmation, her placid expression returned as if she remembered her purpose in Natasha's chambers. "Now we must be away, I am to give you a brief tour and then introduce you to your new responsibilities as a member of the court."

Sif left the room without another word, and Natasha paused before walking quickly to follow her. As they walked through the echoing halls, past guards, who sat playing dice, often sparing a glace at the girl with fire for hair, they walked past servants carrying heaps of fabrics or papers. The palace seemed a busy place, and Natasha had to remind herself that it was something she would grow used to in time. Sif pointed out many of the notable rooms, such as the kitchens, the dining rooms- there were many- and the library. Natasha nearly let out a moan of disappointment when Sif told her they would not be going into the library, as it was sometimes closed if a member of the royal family was using it and wished for absolute privacy.

"But perhaps we can return later on, and I may show you where everything is kept, as it is of a great expanse." Sif told her when she noted the look of chagrin on Natasha's features.

"It would please me greatly if we could." Natasha smiled, and Sif raised her eyebrows in surprise at her sudden delight.

"And that is the first positive form of emotion I have yet seen on your face." Sif exclaimed with a light laugh. "Being a lady in waiting is an honour, you know. It is not a matter to be forlorn about."

"In honesty, I find my self wondering about the disparity between a handmaiden and a lady in waiting." Natasha looked at the floor, expecting a rant about the nobleness of her newfound situation, much like the ones Ivan would rattle off with whenever she expressed doubt. Instead she heard a sigh, and looked up to Sif's sympathetic smile.

"I felt very similar once before, but once you have seen the celebrations that Asgard throws firsthand, once you have been _formally_ introduced to the most important people of all the land, you will then come to appreciate that you are _part_ of the court, not serving it." Sif put a hand on Natasha's shoulder and smiled. "A handmaiden, or any other kind of servant will not receive the treatment we do, and you should be very grateful that you have a proper bed to sleep in each night, some are not so lucky."

"Forgive me, I am grateful. The establishments are far finer than any in Midgard, I can assure you."

"Good. Now we shall continue with the tour, I think the stables shall be a suitable place to visit next, though they are fairly empty these days after half the city has gone to war." Natasha frowned, remembering the tales she had heard of a war may distances from Asgard and Midgard, and though Midgard had not offered their aid, Asgard's forces had been sent away, taking the two princes with them. It was probably why the city was in such a state of tension, the heir to the throne was at the mercy of the Jotun's, and with both forces so strong, it was difficult to determine who would come out victorious. Natasha felt a new wave of respect for the queen, to have her two sons so far away and at the front line of a roaring battle, she still seemed so calm and gentle when Natasha had met her.

**~x~**

They continued their tour throughout the palace and the grounds, and only just entering the forest beyond, but before Natasha could fully explore the depths of the dense forest she was pulled away by Sif who told her it was time to turn back.

"Do not get me wrong." Sif explained as they walked through the courtyard to ascend the steps that led into the palace. "I love a good adventure, my father and I would often explore those woods when I was but a young child, but it would be better to venture into them earlier in the day. It is getting late, and such a dense forest takes a good deal of time to explore. We would not wish to be caught there when the sun sets, or we shall not find our way back."

"Perhaps we may go sometime within the week?" Natasha suggested, and smiled at how Sif was taken aback by her response. "Exploring is something I have always loved to do."

"I think I am growing to like you, Natasha." Sif grinned as they paused at the top of the stairs. "It is not often you find a woman in the court who is not a stuck-up, prissy little idiot, just wait until you meet Amora. But you show promise, and I shall like to have a friend who is not a male, such company can be… restrictive as you may know."

Sif lead Natasha to a long gallery, where many young women sat reading or working on their embroidery. As they walked Sif relayed information about her three friends, The Warriors Three, who had also been sent to battle. Natasha longed to meet them after hearing only a few words of their bravery and skill in battle.

_A warrior,_ Natasha thought, and Ivans suggestions of marriage came flooding back into her mind. She supposed if she were to find a man to marry here at court, a knight would do. She had always admired bravery and the skill needed for a war. And if they were not suitable for marriage, then she would be no less pleased to have them as merely her friends, seeing as Sif's descriptions of the other ladies at court we far from positive.

As Natasha sat and began to work on her embroidery with uncertain fingers, she spared a look at her surroundings. The gallery was just as grand as any other part of the palace, with high ceilings and breathtaking artwork, she realised that she could be contented with this new position, if not after some time to get used to it all, she could fit in rather nicely.

* * *

**_A/N:_**_ After weeks and weeks of writers block, I finally managed to write this! I'm rather pleased with myself, even if the writing is a little shabby. After I finished writing Darkness Descends, I left this one hanging in the air, and for a while reconsidered actually writing it, so when I actually started typing words I wanted to get it done as soon as possible. So here is the first chapter! Apologies if the writing was a little bad, like I said, I wanted to publish it asap. _

_I'm not sure how soon I'll be updating... hopefully soon, it's just my new job that keeps me busy, and this week I have a funeral to attend, so I may be a bit busy and withdrawn. But I can assure you, this fic has a future, and Loki will be making an appearance in the next chapter :)_

_I hope you liked it! Please tell me what you think! I've always found reviews to be great motivators, and I think I shall need them at the moment! _

_Lots of love_

_xxx_


	2. Lavender and Camomile

The next few days were busy for Natasha, she constantly found herself manoeuvring around the palace in a rush, delivering dresses to the queens chambers, writing letters on the queens behalf, embroidery and bringing herbs from the gardens to bring to the court physician Eir, who would then use them to make the kings medicines. However, it wasn't all work that kept Natasha busy, as she would wonder through the vast gardens that the palace grounds had to offer in order to pick numerous herbs for Eir, she would often stop and enjoy the scenery. Back in Midgard it was not often that she had the chance to do so, and when compared to such splendour in Asgard, Midgard seemed a bleak sort of place, not worthy of appreciation.

Whenever she had time to spare Sif would drag her away from her room and walk with her along the border of the forest, never really going far enough to be completely enveloped in it. She promised Natasha that they would go further some day, but during such a busy time they would need to stay close to the palace in case they were needed.

"It's the war." Sif muttered one day as they were tiredly walking back to the palace. "It has everyone in a frenzy. It's never usually this busy in the palace, or in the whole city for that matter. But we have an awful lot of newcomers who have evacuated the cities closer to the battle, and no doubt Frigga is keeping herself as busy as possible to keep her mind off of it all."

"I've heard the king did not go to battle with his sons, yet I have not seen him once during my time here." Natasha divulged. It was a matter that had been greatly pressing to Ivan, who whenever he had crossed paths with Natasha had made it excessively clear that he was irritated to have not had the chance to converse with Odin. Natasha knew exactly where he was however, there was a reason the library was always closed, but she wished to somehow extract a little more information from Sif as discreetly as possible to sate her surrogate father.

"It has been rumoured that he hides himself away in the palace library, overlooking his correspondence with his eldest son, Prince Thor." Sif whispered, leaning in closer as if this was scandalous gossip. "Apparently he had insisted on joining his sons to go to battle, but with his past misfortunes in health it was decided he would stay, if not for his own health then to protect the kingdom."

Natasha let out a long heavy sigh as they moved from the fields onto a path that lead to the palace. The war had apparently been going on for longer than she had thought, and though she knew Ivan had kept her fairly isolated back in Midgard, it was surprising that such information of the war was news to her. She decided that she was a little less grieved to have left Ivan, knowing that she was independent, well, more or less, and somewhat free to do what she wanted, instead of being cooped up in their little cottage back in Midgard, with little freedom, and unable to take a walk without permission. She couldn't wait for a more peaceful time in Asgard, when she could spend her days relaxing in the gardens under the apple trees where she could read to her hearts content. She let out another sigh just from the thought of it all. "When will the war be over do you think?"

"It shouldn't be too long now." Sif replied with certainty in her voice. "If I know the Princes, and I do, rather well actually, they will be slaying the Jotunn's as we speak."

"You know them well?" Natasha asked, all the more intrigued by the way Sif nodded her head is if it were perfectly normal. She had yet to become acquainted with the princes, yet to even see what they looked like. She felt so out of place not knowing the local gossip, what the Princes are like, how temperamental they are. She still had so much to learn, and it was a daunting concept.

"I was raised at court, my father was a nobleman, and so I grew up alongside prince Thor and Prince Loki. It is also how I am so well acquainted with the warriors three." Sif let out a long sigh, fiddling with the lace on her sleeves and absentmindedly kicking rocks out of the pathway as they walked. "It seems when we are young, we take little notice of gender, as if it is nothing at all. Yet, when we grow up… those notions grow more strongly in our minds and we separate from the men to become ladies. I dearly miss the days when I was free to run about with Thor, Hogunn, Volstagg and Fandral."

"You didn't 'run about' with prince Loki?" Natasha smiled, assuming Sif had forgotten to mention him, but a scowl deepened on Sif's brow and Natasha feared she had somehow offended her.

"Loki was… different." Sif skewed her lips to the side in thought, pondering the correct word to say to do Loki justice. "He always has been, but we would play with him when we were younger, only because Thor would have to drag him along with us, as were his mothers, queen Frigga's, wishes. Otherwise he would sulk for the rest of the day and somehow manage to make everyone uncomfortable. He was tolerable at best, but sometimes his little pranks could go too far."

She finished her rant through gritted teeth and Natasha didn't press any further, not wanting to distress Sif any more than she already had. They approached the gates that lead to the palace courtyard and were greeted by the hustle and bustle of handmaidens and stable boys doing their daily duties. Sif noticed Natasha's irked expression to be back to the hectic life of a lady in waiting, their time in the forest had seemed like heaven, to be away from their duties for but an hour.

"You should be thankful we're not in the town." Sif smirked, guiding Natasha back to the main doors of the palace. "At least up here it is slightly less busy, and you're not in a cramped alleyway with waste being dropped onto your head."

Natasha smiled back at Sif, impressed with how positive she could be. She seemed to make sure she took nothing for granted, always understanding that someone out there had it worse than she. It was a trait that Natasha hoped to pick up on in time, seeing as being brought up by Ivan had left her somewhat cold and pessimistic.

~X~

The sun was setting over the tops of the trees that populated the forest beyond the palace walls, painting the sky with soft pinks and yellows like something out of a dream. The sunset painted Natasha's room with orange light as she sat at her window seat, gazing out to the courtyard. She had completely forgotten about the book in her hands, and instead, her attention was transfixed on the numerous carriages and horses being lead into the courtyard, and compared to the prior commotion, there was something different about the scene below. The horse's riders were calm, with cheerful smiles on their faces as they strode into the palace. From what Natasha could see, they were seemingly grubby, as if they had been working in the fields all day, but their clothes were rich in colour and looked most expensive. Natasha frowned, wondering who they were and why they were in Asgard. She returned to her book when she realised it was probably a usual occurrence in Asgard, nothing to be so distracted by, and she had yet to fully understand the ways of this new kingdom, for it was truly, vastly different from Midgard.

There was a soft knock on her door, which told Natasha that it wasn't Sif, if it were she would have already barged into her room with little consideration, which Natasha was used to by now.

"Come in." She called from where she sat, too comfortable where she was to go and open the door herself.

The door creaked open and a thin blonde girl in a dress more plain than Natasha's stepped into the room. She had a small smile on her face that was clearly trying to hide how nervous she was. She curtsied and cleared her throat before speaking.

"Queen Frigga requests your presence in her chamber." She divulged in a small voice, her eyes looking anywhere but Natasha.

"Is anything the matter?" She asked, feeling slightly uneasy herself at the way this girl was acting around her. She was clearly a serving girl, by the way she was dressed and her mannerisms, perhaps that was why she was acting so shyly.

"No, my lady, she merely requires your assistance in preparing for bed." Natasha withheld a sigh, the girl obviously did not comprehend her meaning when asking if anything was the matter, but nevertheless she stood from her seat and proceeded to follow the girl to Frigga's chamber.

She stepped into the bedroom and had to stifle a gasp at its grandeur. The four-poster bed was carved from rich oak wood, with intricate details etched into it. Shimmering golden material hung elegantly from each post and caught the candlelight in such a way that it looked like magic. An abundance of candles were lit and placed around the room, lighting every corner with warm light. Frigga was sat at a large and ornate vanity, her reflection glancing in Natasha's direction with a smile as warm as the candlelight.

"Natasha." She smiled, turning slightly to face her. "Do not look so fretful, my dear, come in."

Natasha stepped forward, making sure to not step too close to the queen, lest she make her uncomfortable.

"My queen." She curtsied, returning Frigga's friendly smile. "What is it that I may help you with?"

"I wonder," Frigga said in her usual soft voice, turning back around to the mirror and fiddling with the pins in her hair. "Could you help me with these hair pins, they are truly impossible."

"Of course, your grace." Natasha stepped behind Frigga and began gently pulling the pins away. They were beautiful, long and silver with a blue flower on the end that stood out against Frigga's golden locks. As she pulled more away, soft tresses fell from their place and draped over the queens shoulders. She was the perfect image of a queen, bold and yet so elegant with such friendliness to top it all off.

They were silent for some time, the only sounds were the gentle ding of the pins being set down into a glass bowl. Natasha was running a brush through the queens hair when Frigga let out a long contented sigh, her smile widening as she fingered the pendant that hung from her neck.

"Anything the matter, your grace?" Natasha asked, wondering if she should have asked at all, but she had always hated silence, even if it had not been awkward she still preferred to converse.

"Not at all." Frigga smiled, meeting Natasha's concerned gaze in the reflection with a small grin. "I am relieved, Natasha." She said with a soft laugh that made her sound completely at ease. "I am most greatly relieved."

Natasha paused for a moment, wondering if she should let curiosity get the better of her or stay quiet. After another moments silence Frigga laughed again.

"Are you not going to ask why?"

"Forgive me, why are you so relieved?" Natasha laughed in return, smoothing down Frigga's hair in order to braid it.

"The king received a letter today from our eldest son, Thor." She grinned up excitedly at Natasha who only smiled, allowing Frigga to continue. "He wrote to say that the battle of Jotuniem is over, and the soldiers are to be returning. Indeed, some have already returned this evening as they were not so far away as the rest." Natasha recalled the peculiar sight in the courtyard earlier that evening, and the men in dirtied clothes began to make sense.

"That is wonderful news indeed." Natasha grinned, happy to have the palace in a calmer state.

"I shall have my sons back." Frigga sighed, her lips curling upwards. "And many guests with them, as my youngest son has written to tell me that Thor is to be bringing with him several comrades for the celebrations."

Natasha finished plaiting Frigga's hair and helped her out of her seat. Now standing, Frigga looked even more graceful than before, despite only being dressed in her nightgown and a long golden robe. Frigga handed Natasha a slip of parchment and walked towards her bed, removing her robe and slipping under the covers.

"Could you please read me that letter, Natasha? I long to hear my sons words again, even if they are not from his own lips." Natasha nodded and took a seat on the chair beside the bed, unfolding the parchment in her hand.

" '_My dear mother,_

_I currently sit at a lengthy table in the palace of York, where we stay tonight, thanks to the hospitality of our ally Anthony Stark of house Stark. I am currently seeing Thor, your beloved son, finishing his tenth flagon of ale, and while much like his friends beside me I agree this is indeed an amusing sight to behold, I cannot help but think about my return home_…'" Natasha read the letter slowly, gradually becoming absorbed in the words of this allusive prince Loki. His script was sharp and elegant, and as he described his memories of the palace the writing became much like poetry.

" '…_Yours most faithfully,_

_Loki_'"

"My son has always been so good with words." Frigga smiled sleepily from where she lay in her bed. Her eyes fluttered shut, and Natasha took that as her cue to leave.

~X~

If Natasha had thought the palace was busy before, she was ghastly mistaken. Indeed, the day's prior had been almost tranquil when compared to how hectic the palace now was. With soldiers returning each day in droves, all parading themselves with smug, triumphant grins as they made their way to the taverns only to return to their rooms in the palace in the dead of night, successfully waking Natasha from her slumber as they stumbled around the courtyard.

Servants were restless, bringing food from one room to another in preparation of the great feast that was to be held in honour of Asgard's victory and the fallen soldiers. Natasha couldn't wait for it to be over. She had barely seen Sif once since the soldiers began to return, only passing each other in the halls and giving one another exhausted and weary looks.

Frigga kept Natasha busy, albeit her chores were not so taxing, and she was required to aid the queen in preparations for bed and occasionally read her correspondence. Frigga often expressed how she had grown fond of Natasha's company, and asked her to sit with her whilst she worked on her embroidery.

Natasha enjoyed her time with the queen, it was the time when she felt most peaceful, most relaxed, as Frigga's rooms were nicely secluded from the busier parts of the palace. However, having the queen form such an attachment to her did not bode well with the other ladies in waiting. As they all sat together in the long gallery, some working on their needlework, some reading, Natasha could sense the hateful glances being thrown her way as she read the queens letters to her. Sif was right to call them 'stuck-up, prissy little idiots.'

~X~

Natasha lay in bed, restlessly trying to find a comfortable position to lie in, but it was futile, she would not sleep that night. She sighed, turning to her window to see the sun was beginning to make its ascent into the sky. _Morning_ she thought with distain, _fantastic._

It became clear that no good would come of lying around for the rest of her free time, and quickly hopped out of her bead and wrapped herself in a warm robe, covering herself from the cold. She thought about her options, she could use this time to read and other leisurely activities, or, seeing as the feast was that evening, and the palace would be as hectic as ever, she could start her responsibilities early so she may find some free time that afternoon and not get caught up in the hustle and bustle. She decided on the latter and dressed herself into a plain cream gown with a red corset. She threw a dark red hooded cloak over her shoulders and made her way to the gardens.

Frigga had also been having trouble sleeping those past few days, the excitement of her sons return making in near impossible not to stay conscious. Natasha knew just the remedy to treat her and began reciting the herbs in her head as she stepped out into the cold morning. Despite the early morning, Natasha was glad to get some fresh air and some solitude. The sun had not yet risen and the sky was a pale greyish blue with hues of yellow from the sun, the grass was slick with the morning dew and a thick fog drifted over the ground, making it difficult for Natasha to find her way. It was an eerie sight, yet no less beautiful.

She let her hands hang by her sides, gently brushing against the shrubbery, taking notice of each texture in order to discern whether she had reached the correct plant. She didn't know the layout of the gardens terribly well, but she prided herself in recognising each plant she touched the leaf of. After a considerable amount of time spent roaming around the gardens, she finally found what she was looking for and knelt beside the plant, inhaling the sweet smell of lavender and let it tickle her nose. She began cutting off several sprigs and placing them gently in her basket so not to crush them, then moving to the plant beside it, knowing well that it was the camomile plant and collected some of that also.

As she worked, snipping away at the plant, her mind drifted to Ivan. After hearing of the battles victory, Odin had made a few appearances around the palace, though each time he was flanked by guards and noblemen. Ivan was free to converse with the king, and so his quest for power was near complete. She hadn't seen Ivan in some time, and she supposed he was keeping himself busy with his work, or snaking his way closer into the king's circle of trust. She hated herself for it, but she missed him, only slightly she found, but she missed in nonetheless. She was constantly surrounded by company here in Asgard, yet it was not so familiar to her as Ivan's.

A distant crunch of leaves brought Natasha out of her thoughts. She looked up from the camomile plant, her eyes scanning the area warily. The scene around her was just as it was before, nothing changed. She put it down to a wild animal and continued her work.

"Who are you?" The voice sounded as if it were right behind her and startled Natasha, she jumped up from her kneeling position and spun around in one fluent motion to find herself face to chest with a man.

She looked up to see his face, though it was difficult to see through the haze, but she could see dark, ebony hair, slicked back with a few loose stands falling before a face with sharp features. She locked her gaze with severe green eyes, scrutinising her in every way.

"Is it not a little early to be wondering around in the gardens?" He asked, his expression was serious causing Natasha to feel a little intimidated. She assessed him fully, noticing his tatty green jacket and leather britches, he looked far from someone who had the right to speak with her so.

"I suppose I should be asking you the same." She retorted, holding her head high and taking a step back so he wasn't towering over her so threateningly. "I am collecting herbs for the queen if you must know, what is_ your _purpose in the palace grounds?"

"Collecting herbs for the queen? She is not taken ill, surely?" He sounded truly concerned, and it wasn't hard for Natasha to believe. With a queen as kind and just as Frigga it was to be expected that the villagers cared for her as she cared for them.

"You did not answer my question." Natasha pressed. It would not do to have the townspeople sneaking into to the palace gardens and stealing.

"I am a gardener." He sighed, rolling his eyes exasperatedly. Natasha narrowed her eyes, watching him closely for a falter in his façade, but alas, he seemed to be truthful. She had always prided herself in detecting falseness, it had always come in handy with Ivan, how else had she discovered the truth of his gambling their money away at the taverns back in Midgard? "I suppose you are a handmaiden to the queen, judging by your style of dress."

It was true that Natasha dressed plainly to the rest of the ladies in waiting, but she would have liked to be recognised with someone with a little more status than a servant. She frowned up at him, watching as his eyes roamed her body hungrily. The letch.

"I am a lady in waiting." She corrected, forcing herself not to speak through gritted teeth, who did this man think he was?

"My apologies." He smirked, leaning forward to reach for a sprig of lavender behind her. His face was so close to hers as his arm snaked around her to retrieve the plant he had picked, and she kept herself for leaning away, standing her ground. He chuckled as he moved back, rolling the spring between his thumb and forefinger slowly. "It is an impressive disguise then."

"It's not a disguise I assure you. I have little need for them." Natasha replied, keeping her sentences terse and cold as she fidgeted with the fastenings of her cloak, this caught his attention and his smirk widened into a smug grin. "This is the way I dress."

"So I suppose that means you are new to Asgard." He drew his eyes from her hands and met her gaze. "You will become absorbed with the latest fashions soon enough, and the fire you have in you now will die out, I have seen it happen many times."

"Ah yes, the gardens must be a perfect position for one to observe the goings on within the palace." Natasha smirked, the sarcasm dripping from her voice. The man merely smiled, bringing the lavender to his nose absentmindedly.

"I see more than you would expect."

Natasha sniffed in a disinterested manner and looked down at her basket. She supposed what she had collected was enough and decided it was time to deliver the herbs to Eir.

"Farewell then, gardener." She nodded and turned to take her leave, but his next words stopped her.

"Leaving so soon?"

"I see little logic in standing around and conversing with the palace servants." She sneered and turned again to leave. The sun was already fully risen, and the rest of the palace would be waking soon for the busy day ahead of them.

"Farewell, my lady." She almost missed his last words to her, had they been any quieter she surely would have. She sighed, repressing the urge to ask herself why this man didn't seem to know his place with her. Perhaps it was the way she was dressed, and she made a mental note to wear something a little more pleasant for the feast that evening.

* * *

_**A/N:**__ So I figured out why I had such awful writers block these past few weeks! I went for a run the other day, the first time in a while due to an injury, and all these ideas for this chapter just came to me! I used to run a lot when I started Beauty of the Dark and my other fics, and I never realised just how amazing it is for time to think. So you can thank my left calf's healing for this chapter._

_Also, if anyone's feeling up for a challenge, I really need a cover for this fic... hint hint, nudge nudge ;) My photoshop skills are terrible and I would love you forever x_

_Anyways, I hope you enjoyed! And I promise more Loki in the next chapter, I'm just setting the scene at the moment._

_Please review! xxx_


	3. Mischief

Natasha was glad that she had decided to collect herbs that morning, despite certain interruptions, but the following afternoon she managed to find herself with time to spare. She dragged Sif, who came all too willingly, to the forest where they could take their walk and relax, far away from the stressful goings on in the palace. This time they wondered a little deeper into the forest, deeming themselves worthy of a little exploration after such busy days prior, but they made sure not to go too far.

The soft afternoon light filtered through the tree branches, sending specks of partial light to gleam upon the leaf covered ground. The towns could be heard from far away and the distant cries of children playing gave the afternoon a peaceful sort of mood.

They walked slowly, not talking as much as they usually would, only out of sheer exhaustion, yet they enjoyed each other's company no less.

Natasha let her mind wonder to the gardener she had spoken with that morning, and his peculiar manner of speaking towards her, as if he had the right to think himself above her. She hated to admit it, but his little quips had gotten to her, and she had made sure that when she returned to her chamber that she dressed into her second best dress for that day, saving her very best for the feast, lest she be mistaken for a serving girl once more. Even if he had been a mere gardener, mistaking her for a servant had left Natasha feeling insulted despite her best efforts to brush it away.

"Have you heard the news?" Sif asked, breaking the silence. She turned to Natasha, barely suppressing her excitement.

"News?" Natasha asked tiredly. She had been miles away and nearly missed Sif's question.

"The princes and The Warriors Three returned last night." Sif grinned, unable to contain her elation at such news. "Lord Fandrall has told me that Price Thor is hosting a hunting party tomorrow, and we are more than welcome to attend!"

"I'm surprised you've managed to keep the news to yourself for so long, seeing as you're practically hopping with joy." Natasha chuckled, absentmindedly picking a leaf off of a nearby bush and picking at it. "But should we be allowed to participate, or are we to attend solely for our company?"

"Unless you are particularly skilled in hunting, I doubt you will be given such an opportunity." Sif sighed, somewhat irritated that Natasha had reminded her of the disadvantages in their sex.

"Alas," Natasha returned the sigh, her shoulders slumping in disappointment. "I am little acquainted with the art of hunting beasts, Ivan made sure my skills were advanced in more… practical past times."

"You mean more _female_ past times." Sif smirked, shaking her head softly. "My father once taught me a little about hunting before he past away, and after that my mother made sure I was diverted from such masculine interest."

"So would you be given the opportunity to hunt tomorrow?"

"I suppose, given that Prince Thor trusts me to use a weapon safely, perhaps I can teach you and you may participate in another hunting trip in the future." Sif smiled hopefully, and the yearning to return to her old hobby was evident on her features.

"I would like that very much." Natasha grinned, pausing to grasp Sif's hand in a gesture of thanks. "Have you been on many hunting trips before?"

"Very few." She replied, both Natasha and her turned to begin walking again, slowly making their way back to the palace, their leisurely time being almost up. "They usually take place when the royal family has visitors, and I hear that Prince Thor has brought back an abundance of new friends, Loki bringing back none, though I couldn't expect any less from him."

"You still resent him for old childish feuds?" Natasha inquired, her curiosity getting the better of her. Sif had never held back from divulging information about Thor, in fact, she was often very enthusiastic about such a topic, yet the younger prince was rarely brought up in their conversations, only making Natasha the more curious.

"Oh, believe me when I say, it was no mere 'childish feud.'" Sif's brow deepened into a scowl, her mood clearly souring from the topic of the prince. "He… he is not a person to be trusted."

"This is awfully dangerous," Natasha murmured, noting the presence of a few peasants some distance away. "Speaking of the monarch in such a manner could get us hanged."

"Well half the kingdom thinks so!" Sif argued, throwing her arms up in anger. "It is no secret that he is an untrustworthy man, that he longs for the throne despite only being the second in line for it. In truth, I fear for the life of Thor, a man with such determination as Loki would do anything for power, no matter what family ties would be severed."

"I could never imagine that desire for such things could lead to the murder of ones brother."

"When you have everything, like the princes do, you often take your family for granted, it is not as important to someone who can have whatever they want at the click of their fingers." Sif returned, her knowing tone gave Natasha pause.

She thought back to the letter that Frigga had made her read before she had drifted to sleep. The elegant handwriting and the poetic wording, how could anyone who thinks so beautifully be as cruel and dark as Sif made him out to be? But she was reminded of Ivan, his quest for power, and how it had driven him to give her up in order to proceed in his plans for jurisdiction.

"I suppose you'll have to meet him to fully understand his character. But I must warn you, as well as being manipulative and cold, Loki is also decidedly mischievous." Sif gave Natasha a serious look, and Natasha had to keep herself from laughing. It was as if she was about to meet a wolf or poisonous snake, and should have to take some form of protection against him.

"I shall look forward to it then."

~X~

Natasha waited in the gallery where Sif had asked her to wait before they both made their way to the feast. She was dressed in a long, wine red, silk gown with a belt that was crafted out of gold to make the shapes of leaves and vines. Her hair was loosely held back, letting only a few tresses fall before her face, her lips were painted the shade of red and her cheeks given an artificial rosy tint, thanks to the handmaiden that had helped her prepare. When she had looked at her reflection in the mirror, she had barely recognised the woman staring back at her. She had dressed up formally in the past, yet Asgards fashion was far more intricate and bold. She was no longer Natasha of Midgard, but Natasha of Asgard now, and it was just another thing to grow used to.

"Natasha?" The red head spun around to see Sif walking towards her, a bemused expression on her face. She was dressed in a long silvery gown that shimmered in the candlelight and her hair was draped elegantly over one of her bare shoulders. "Could this really be the Natasha I have come to know?" She jested, gesturing to Natasha's garb and scrutinising her as she closed the distance between them.

"I'm afraid so." Natasha grinned, looking down at herself. "Do you think it is a little much?"

"Gods, no!" Sif exclaimed, laughter bubbling over her lips at Natasha's self doubt. "I believe you shall have the attention of everyone when we walk into the hall."

The walked to the grand hall where the feast was being held, already masses of guests, all dressed in their best apparel, were ambling around the room, holding goblets of wine and talking amongst themselves.

Frigga and Odin stood beside one another, in deep conversation with a number of noblemen whom Natasha recognised from being constantly immersed in conversation with Ivan whenever she had seen him. Ivan. Natasha had forgotten that he would be there, and quickly began scanning the crowds, hoping to get the chance to speak with him before they were seated for the feast.

"Look." Sif whispered, clutching Natasha's arm with one hand and pointing in the direction of a cluster of men, all standing around, laughing at something one of them had said. "They are Prince Thor's guests, from the Kingdom of York."

Natasha tried not to stare too much, but felt oddly intrigued by the mysterious new guests. A man with dark brown hair, dark eyes and a goatee seemed to be the main focus of their conversation, as he stood proudly, seemingly jesting a considerable amount, by the way the others kept laughing after he spoke. Beside him stood a man, looking equally important as the latter. He had short blonde hair, and looked as though he was hiding embarrassment whenever they all began to chuckle. There were two others, one with curly dark hair, who stood a little shyly from the rest, and another who was downing a flagon on ale, almost spitting it out when another joke had been told.

"They seem lively." Natasha murmured, her interest quickly turning back to finding Ivan.

"I can introduce you to the Warriors Three if you wish." Sif replied, her clasp on Natasha's arm loosening.

"If you excuse me, I think I shall seek out Ivan, I long to speak with him." Sif nodded with a small smile, and turned away, slowly disappearing in the throngs of people.

Natasha waded through the crowds, picking up a goblet of wine on the way. The hall was abuzz with the conversations of others and the jaunty music being played upon on the balconies only added to the liveliness of the scene. It was clearly a celebration, everyone was merry and all smiles. Natasha caught Frigga's eye once or twice, and was greeted with a gentle smile and a nod. She wondered if the attention she received from the queen was normal, seeing as she was not as intimate with her other ladies in waiting. Before she could think on it too much, her attention was caught on the familiar white hairs of her surrogate father.

"Natasha!" He smiled, turning to look at her fully. "You look delightful, my dear."

"It is good to see you." Natasha returned the smile, happy to see him in such a light-hearted mood. "I feared you would be too busy working your way into he kings council."

Ivan frowned, and Natasha regretted her words, fearing that perhaps some of her prior anger towards him had bubbled to the surface, but Ivan's frown quickly melted away and he grinned again. "There is little work left to be done on that subject, my dear, I have earned his trust since the war ended and I had the ability to speak with him more, so tonight is a night to celebrate."

"I am glad." She smiled, taking a sip of her wine.

"How are you faring in the queens court?" He asked, picking a goblet off of a passing tray. "I hope you do not miss me too much."

"I miss home." Natasha sighed, deciding to be honest with herself instead of holding her tongue. "Yet, I suppose in time Asgard could become my home, and queen Frigga as very kind, I enjoy my days here."

"I am happy that you have found a way to be happy." Ivan replied, his eyes were saddened and he exhaled a heavy breath. "I wish I could have granted you with a motherly figure when you were young, and I wish I could have been accepted into the court of Midgard so we would not have had to move. This is all for the best, I cannot assure you enough."

Natasha opened her mouth to reply, but a large silence filled the room, and she looked round to see Odin standing on a platform, waiting for everyone's attention. It was the longest Natasha had seen him, only ever able to catch fleeting glances at the king when he marched around the palace, always flanked by his courtiers. She turned fully, giving the king all of her attention, and scrutinising him from afar. He wore bronze armour and a long flowing red cape, his silvery hair brushed back from his face, upon which sat a large golden eye patch, a constant reminder of the battles he had faced and the bravery of their king.

"Welcome." He began, his voice a deep tone and roughed with age. "Tonight we dine in celebration of our victory, and the many lives lost in the process. In a moment we shall be seated for the feast, but first, I wish to announce the return of my dear sons, Thor and Loki, and to share with you my pride at their consistent shows of valour and greatness."

Odin raised his hand and gestured towards the main doors of the hall, they opened slowly, and the sea of bodies parted to make way for the princes' entrance. Due to her height, Natasha could not see the two men that entered, so instead she turned her sight towards the king, waiting for the princes to meet him there and be more visible.

First a muscular man stood before the king, who patted his shoulder lovingly. He had lengthy blonde hair and a kind face. He turned to smile at the crowd, winking at a crowd of ladies who failed at stifling their gasps of excitement. He was wearing similar clothes to his father, though in place of bronze, he wore colours of silver, blue and red.

But it was the second prince that made Natasha's jaw slack and eyes widen. She almost dropped her goblet of wine as the second price, announced as prince Loki, turned around to face the crowd and reveal himself as the gardener she had conversed with that morning. He gave a curt bow, his features remaining stony, yet when his eyes met with hers a small triumphant smirk worked its way upon his lips.

_That snake._ Natasha thought bitterly, For him to have let her embarrass so tremendously herself that morning and never letting on that he was the prince of Asgard!

Mischievous indeed.

~X~

The guests were all seated at tables around the hall, and Natasha was placed beside two of Prince Thor's guests, a Lord Barton and a Lord Rogers, Sif, and a fellow named Fandral, who Sif had introduced as one of The Warriors Three.

They were pleasant company, and when Sif secluded herself to a small conversation with Fandral, Natasha turned to Lord Barton for company.

"So, how long have you been at court?" He asked, turning to face her better.

"Not long, I've been here just over a week." She replied, ignoring the nagging sensation that someone was watching her. It wouldn't surprise her if they were, as Sif had said she would have the attention of many that evening, and yet she couldn't determine who it was that watched her.

"Only a week? You _are _new, where do hail from?" He grinned curiously, and Natasha admired the way he gave her his full attention, she was all too used to having men only pretend they were listening to what she had to say.

"Midgard."

"Natasha Romanov of Midgard." He said, testing the name on his tongue. "You're not related with the noble family of Romanov are you?"

"Indeed, I am their daughter." She refrained from nervously chewing her lip, speaking of her family always made her uncomfortable, and on many accounts she had purposely forgotten to mention that Ivan was her adoptive father, so to avoid the conversation of her birth parents.

"I hear they were very good people." He smiled sympathetically before taking another swig of wine.

"I wouldn't know." She sighed, unable to keep herself from dampening the mood, but unfortunately the conversation had taken a sombre turn. "They passed away when I was very young, so I never had the chance to know them."

"I'm sorry, it must be difficult for you." Barton sighed sadly. His sympathy was amiable, and Natasha decided that she quite enjoyed his company.

"I find it is difficult to mourn those we never knew, nor loved."

"I agree." Clint smiled, he took another sip of wine and straightened out his shoulders. Lord Rogers, the taller blonde who had been sitting with them turned to face her after being involved in a conversation with Fandral.

"Will you be joining us on the hunt tomorrow afternoon, Lady Natasha?" Lord Rogers asked, resting on his elbow to lean closer to her, so to be heard over the chatter and music.

"I shall, but I must admit that I am little acquainted with hunting." She smiled politely and took another sip of wine, already beginning to feel it going to her head.

"I'll teach you." Lord Barton winked with a large grin, and Rogers chuckled under his breath as he eyed the mans goblet of wine suspiciously. It was quite clear that he had a little too much to drink, but luckily in his drunken state he was still pleasing company.

"Thank you, but I already have a teacher I am afraid." Natasha laughed, nodding towards Sif, who was still deep in conversation with her friend.

"Too bad." Barton let out a breathy laugh. "No one knows how to shoot an arrow like I do."

~X~

Lord Stark, another of Thor's guests, and the one with the dark hair and goatee, was also very pleasant company, despite the many occasions that Natasha found him looking at her behind. But nevertheless, they made a fantastic pairing when it came to the dancing. A large space was cleared where the guests partook in the dance to the lively music that the instruments produced.

Despite the earlier distractions from the pleasant company, Natasha still hadn't gotten over the true identity of the Prince, and Sif's words from earlier that day came back to mind, _'as well as being manipulative and cold, Loki is also decidedly mischievous.'_

The younger prince had either immersed himself in the company completely or disappeared altogether, because Natasha had not seen him once since he had made his entrance, and only slightly when a toast was made later.

The dance ended, and Natasha gave Stark a curt bow, who returned it with a smug grin on his features. He stepped forward to ask for another dance, but paused when he seemed to spot something from behind her. A look of annoyance overcame his expression and Natasha turned to see what had caught his attention. She found herself, once again, face to chest with price Loki, and once again he wore the same triumphant grin.

"May I have the next dance?" He asked, and knowing that she would be a fool to refuse a prince anything, she nodded and stepped into place. This dance was a slightly slower in pace, and required the dancers to dance with only their partner, much to Natasha's dismay.

"So, do you often spend your time playing peasant at the break of dawn?" Natasha asked slyly as they began to move together. Loki let out a small chuckle and his lips stretched into a grin.

"Did I surprise you?" He asked, seemingly entertained by his prank. Natasha didn't answer, and only scowled back at him in response. "I did not plan on speaking with anyone this morning, I merely wanted to walk in peace, but I noticed you picking at the palace garden and quickly became concerned, if not a little curious."

"Concerned for what?"

"Picking herbs before the sun has fully risen, anyone else would have thought you were practicing witchcraft." Loki smirked down at her, and Natasha hadn't fully realised before just how charming he was, he used it to his advantage no doubt.

"Witchcraft is not frowned upon as it is in Midgard." Natasha stated plainly with a shrug. "I see no reason you should be alarmed by it."

"Ah, but it all depends on what form of magic you were to be performing, if it were dark, well, that would definitely deserve some concern." He licked his lips as he continued to grin at her, and Natasha was proud that her placid expression did not falter.

"But I was doing nothing of the sort." Natasha replied tersely, moving away from him as part of the dance and then moving back to find him with a more serious expression.

"I must apologise if I insulted you, I knew very well that you were not a serving girl." His apologetic smile was almost endearing, and Natasha felt a little dizzy from how quickly his attitude had changed. "Indeed, I knew who you were the moment you turned around."

"How so?"

"My mother wrote about you profusely in her letters to my brother and I, it seems she is quite fond of you. Perhaps it your decision to pick her herbs before anyone else has woken up." Loki chuckled at Natasha's expression of sheer disbelief and elaborated further. "She was most pleased to have the last living member of the Romanov family in her court, they were very close with my parents. Their portrait still hangs in the library, and you are the picture of your mother."

Natasha couldn't help the way her feet had rooted to the ground and her jaw hung open in surprise. A number of dancers began colliding with her and Loki quickly pulled her aside, avoiding the curious glances of the other guests.

"I am sorry." Natasha finally managed when Loki lead her to a quieter spot. "I- I am suddenly out of sorts, I thank you for the dance, my lord." She curtsied and speedily made her escape before Loki could say anything else. Her mind was focused completely on his last words, _'Their portrait still hangs in the library, and you are the picture of your mother.'_

Natasha was determined, when she next had time to spare, she would find that portrait.

Loki watched her walk away, another grin gracing his features at his ability to make this woman so flustered. He often found much entertainment in doing so, but there was something far more interesting about this woman, perhaps it was the way she didn't fall at his feet like the other ladies in waiting. Nevertheless, he was pleased to have some new entertainment upon returning to his home.

* * *

_**A/N:**__ Eeeep, so I hope you guys liked this! It was the hardest chapter to write so far!_

_I would like to send a HUUUUGGGGEEEE thank you to everyone that reviewed and followed this story! Seriously, I didn't think this fic would get so many follows so quickly, and it's definitely forced me to up my game._

_Also, another MASSIVE thank you to my girl AlisonAPD for the fic cover, you are awesome! And thank you to TheEmoVanity for offering to make one! I'm sorry you didn't get there in time :L _

_And another thing... When I was describing he dress that Natasha was wearing and her hair, I was basically describing this look from Merlin img. photobucket albums /v194/msilverstar/ pub/Morgana .jpg (Just get rid of the spaces)_

_And my knowledge of Medieval dances is slim to none, so I didn't elaborate much on it, leaving it to your imagination as you can probably come up with something better than me._

_Please review! I do so love it when you do! x_


	4. The Lord & Lady Romanov

**_A/N:_** _THIS IS NOT A CLINTASHA FIC. I REPEAT. THIS IS NOT A CLINTASHA FIC._

_I got an annoying anon review telling me that there wasn't enough Clintasha... sorry but no._

_Though this fic may have a little bit of a cockblock!Clint, but then again most blackfrost fics do, I'm just trying to establish their relationship at this point. I love Clint and his relationship with Nat, so I want to make it as true to character as possible without romance. Obviously later on in this fic there will be cockblocking, but not all completely from Clint. This is 100% Blackfrost, and I plan on keeping it that way..._

_Anyway, here's the next chapter! x_

* * *

"Did you enjoy tonight's festivities, Natasha?" Frigga questioned, smiling at her in the reflection on her vanity mirror as Natasha pulled the last pin from the queen's hair and placed it gently in the glass bowl beside her.

"I did indeed." She replied, forcing a smile as she picked up Frigga's golden locks to begin plaiting it.

"What is it, child?" Frigga inquired, her gaze hardening in concern as she sensed Natasha's discomfort.

Natasha hesitated, wondering if it would be appropriate to bring up the portrait of her parents, but she did not wish to overstep any boundaries, and besides, it was likely that prince Loki was lying for his own entertainment.

"It is nothing, my lady." Natasha feigned a more believable smile and finished with the queen's hair, stepping back to signal that she was done. "I must admit that I am feeling a little overwhelmed with the happenings in the feast, but I enjoyed myself regardless."

"Asgard's wine is very strong." Frigga chuckled, standing from her seat and turning to smile at Natasha. "I am sure that you will feel better in the morning."

~X~

Frigga was wrong.

As the morning sun peaked through the gaps in her closed curtains and beamed brightly onto Natasha's face, successfully waking her, Natasha found that she did not in any way feel better.

Her head throbbed and her mouth so dry she could barely swallow. She pried herself away from the comfort of her bed and stumbled to her full-length mirror, frowning at the dishevelled girl looking back at her. Her bright red hair stuck out in strange places, her face pale like snow, she looked like something that had crawled out of the grave.

Natasha let out a low moan and began preparing herself for the day ahead, feeling a little more unwell when she remembered that today was the day of the hunt.

She and Sif sat alone in the gallery, Sif working on her sewing and Natasha flicking through the pages of a book she had read many times before, longing to venture into the library and find something new. They were both as bored as each other, allowing an occasional sigh to escape their lips.

Having promised to join the hunt that day, they did not have enough time to partake in their usual duties, and found themselves with a full hour before the party was scheduled to leave.

"How are you faring?" Sif smirked, watching as Natasha turned another page absentmindedly.

"My head hurts." Natasha complained, her eyes not leaving her book despite the fact that she could hardly concentrate on the words.

"Mine too, but it is something you will grow used to." Sif chuckled, setting down her needlework and sighing. "You have not been raised on Asgardian wine, the effects must be stronger on you."

"I can tell."

"But everyone feels it, some way or another. It is so strong here, it's just the 'Asgardian way'."

"Then why does anybody drink it?" Natasha looked at Sif, frowning in bemusement.

"Because, the effects are quite pleasing, before it begins to wear off." At this, Sif grinned and poured herself a goblet of water. "It makes you believe that anything is possible."

"Is that not awfully dangerous?" A small smirk played on Natasha's lips, recalling the audacity of some of the guests, and how she must have appeared stone cold sober in comparison to them.

Sif smiled and opened her mouth to reply, but a large crash of doors being flung open jolted her from her thoughts. Both women looked up and saw the two princes sauntering their way down the long gallery, they looked deep in conversation, yet Natasha could not make out what they were saying. They stood from their seats and curtsied as Thor looked from his brother and noticed the two ladies in waiting before him.

"Brother, it seems we have stumbled upon the two loveliest women in the kingdom." Thor winked and proceeded to kiss the hands of both Sif and Natasha. He took a seat opposite them and gestured towards Natasha. "Is this not the very woman that our mother has spoken so generously of?"

"It is." Loki replied tersely, moving stiffly to take a seat beside his brother, across from Natasha. His legs wide apart as he leant back, bringing one hand to his lips as his gaze swept over the two women thoughtfully. Thor on the other hand sat with his elbows resting on his legs, leaning forward interestedly as he fixed his gaze with Natasha's.

"Our mother is infatuated with you, my lady." He announced with a large grin. "It appears that you have been a great comfort to her these past days."

"The queen was very kind to have accepted me into the court." Natasha replied, still feeling uneasy with Frigga's attachment to her. She should feel flattered, to have the queen hold her with such high esteem, yet it confused Natasha. Why did the queen take such interest in _her_? She was nothing special, unless Loki's rumour was true.

"Why wouldn't she have? To have a Romanov in the court of Asgard once more, it is something that my mother holds very dear to her heart." Thor leant back on his seat, a self-satisfied smile overtaking his features at the idea that he had just flattered Natasha to oblivion. Instead Natasha paled. So it was true.

She turned to look at Loki who failed at hiding his smugness behind his hand, fuelling her ire. She speedily hid her shock behind a placid mask and turned back to Thor.

"I suppose the circle is complete then." She jested, and Thor let out a low chuckle.

"Yes, I suppose it is."

"Did you enjoy the feast last night, my lord?" Sif asked, having picked up on Natasha's well-hidden insecurity and wishing to change the subject.

"I did." Thor grinned, turning back to Sif. "Though I was grieved to have not had the chance to converse with the two of you."

"You were the host, we could not expect you to greet everyone individually." Sif smiled, her cheeks flushing red a little. Natasha turned to Loki who looked back at her with an expression that read _'You may as well get used to it._'

"Did the two of you enjoy yourselves?" Thor inquired, eyes flickering between the two of them before finally resting back on Sif.

"I did." Sif answered first, another smile spreading across her lips, and Loki shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I was glad to see the Warriors Three once again, and your guests were very agreeable."

"They continuously expressed their excitement for the hunt this afternoon." Natasha divulged, catching Thor's attention again.

"No doubt Barton was flaunting his archery skills." Loki sneered, picking at the upholstery of his seat as he watched Natasha from under his lashes, his lips drawn in a tight line.

"Indeed." Natasha laughed, though Loki did not seem to share the humour and it became quite clear that Barton and Loki were not on the best of terms. "He offered to teach me, though I told him that Sif had already planned on teaching me the art of swordplay."

"You turned him down?" Thor laughed in disbelief. "He won't like that. I should expect it would only intrigue the man more."

Natasha couldn't help but blush slightly, having not realised that Lord Barton's intentions were of that manner. Though if she thought about it, such a match would not be disapproved of. Clint was a nobleman after all.

"But Lord Barton is a very good man." Thor assured her. "They all are, Barton is indeed a gentleman."

"If drinking yourself to sleep and killing by shooting sticks at people warrants the title of 'gentleman' then you have it correct, brother." Loki muttered, clearly disinterested in their conversation.

"And what _does_ warrant such a title?" Natasha countered, irked by his bitterness.

"Good family, manners, intelligence and respect." Loki listed off, his tone sharp as he fixed Natasha with a cold glare. And here he thought they were getting along swimmingly.

"If a gentleman requires all such traits then I scarcely believe that any exist at all." Thor cut her off with a loud guffaw of laughter, even Sif's lips twitched in amusement at Natasha's Courage.

"We do." Loki uttered in a cold tone, scowling at Natasha as though she were is worst enemy. He paid no attention to Thor, who was nearly falling out of his seat with laughter.

"Come now, brother." Thor grinned, patting Loki on the shoulder when he had calmed himself. "You cannot think yourself a _proper_ gentleman. Surely."

"I have grown weary of this conversation, Thor." Loki drawled, his eyes still trained on Natasha, she didn't even flinch under his glare. "We should go prepare for the hunt."

"Very well." Thor chuckled, standing from his seat and bowing to both women, who stood also. Loki was not so courteous, and immediately walked down to the other end of the gallery, followed by his brother who chuckled to himself as he went.

When they had left, Sif turned to Natasha, her lips parted in a small 'O' shape that quickly turned into a huge satisfied grin. "I knew there was a reason I liked you so much."

"Do you think I offended him terribly?" Natasha bit her lip in worry. How often was she going to openly offend the price? Because it was becoming quite the habit.

"Does it matter?" Sif laughed, her smug grin never faltering. "You _are_ brave. To speak to a prince in such a manner, some would be hanged. Though you are lucky that he seems to have taken a liking to you."

"Taken a liking to me?" Natasha's brows drew together in confusion as she searched Sif's expression for an explanation. "What do you mean?"

"He danced with you last night." Sif explained, though it didn't satisfy Natasha's curiosity.

"So?"

"Loki never dances."

"I can tell." Natasha murmured, picking up her book and flicking through it again.

"You should watch how you speak however. Loki may have liked you before, gods know what he thinks of you _now_."

"You and Thor seemed very friendly." Natasha smirked, changing the subject. She peered over her book to see Sif's face turning a shade of deep pink.

"I have missed his company, that is all." She declared, fingers pulling on her gown uneasily.

"Of course." Natasha chuckled from behind her book, and from the way Sif later kicked her lightly in the shin, she heard it.

~X~

It was the perfect day for a hunting party. The incandescent sun gleamed down from the clear sky. As servants hurried to prepare the horses, Natasha and Sif stood proudly beside one another. During the feast, Clint Barton had never realised how striking Natasha was, she wore a white chemise and deep red leather bodice, paired with tight brown breeches and knee high boots. Having last seen her looking beautifully elegant at the feast, seeing her now, looking like a warrior, Clint's eyes widened at the sight of her. He pulled his comrade, Lord Banner from his horse's side and walked with him over to the two ladies.

"Lady Sif, Lady Natasha." Both men bowed and the women followed up with a terse curtsy in greeting. "It is good to see you again."

"You look well Barton." Natasha smiled, pleased to see a familiar face. "I take it last nights festivities were not too overwhelming for you."

"Not in the slightest." He grinned back at her. "I don't believe you two had the pleasure of meeting my friend, Lord Banner, last night." He gestured towards Bruce Banner, who smiled and stepped forward.

"For that I must apologise." He began, smiling awkwardly at them both. "I had to leave quite early, and so I had no chance to converse with anyone of the court. It seems that banquets can be a little too much for me, I much prefer a quieter atmosphere."

"It matters little." Sif smiled sympathetically. "At least you did not sample the wine, it seems Natasha is a little out of sorts because of it."

"Couldn't handle the Asgardian libations, huh?" Clint smirked with a small chuckle. Though his amusement was purely good-natured, Natasha failed to withhold a frown. She disliked being seen as weak, and Lord Barton seemed to think of her as a rather fragile being.

"I am stronger than you think, Lord Barton." She spoke with a small curl of her lips as she moved smoothly down the steps and approached her horse that had been brought around. A servant moved forward to assist her bust she waved him away and hoisted herself up onto her steed with ease. She looked down at the men, noting the smug grin on Sif's lips in her peripheral. Lord Banner's eyebrows shot up so far they looked like they would fly off of his face, yet Barton let out a soft laugh, obviously impressed with her strength.

'_I should expect it would only intrigue the man more.'_

~X~

The party set out soon after, led by Asgard's princes and the king. The rest of the party consisted of The Warriors Three, who rode beside Sif and Natasha, Prince Thor's honoured guests, a number of noblemen from the kings court, including Ivan, and a few other ladies in waiting. There were a plentiful amount of servants who trailed behind on foot, carrying food and spare weapons.

They rode into the depths of the forest, and Natasha couldn't help but gawp at the beauty of it. Having never stepped so far into the area, she admired everything she saw. The afternoon sun filtered through the branches of the trees that towered above her. The ground was covered with orangey-red leaves that crunched under the horse's hooves. It most certainly exceeded her expectations. Sif caught her eye, and she seemed almost amused by how Natasha was reacting from her environment.

"I told you we would venture further one day." She smiled broadly and turned her attentions back to the trail.

As they kept travelling, Natasha found herself amongst the princes guests, riding beside Lord Rogers and Lord Stark.

"How long do you intend to stay in Asgard?" She inquired, turning to the men beside her in an inquisitive manner.

"I must return to York in a few days." Lord Stark announced, sounding a little grieved to be leaving so soon. "The Lady Pepper awaits."

"Lady Pepper is your wife?" Natasha presumed, an eyebrow cocked in question.

"That she is, my lady." Stark grinned proudly. "A beautiful queen for a beautiful kingdom."

"I wonder why you did not bring her to the festivities." Steve interjected. "I'm sure she would have enjoyed it greatly."

"Ah, there must always be a Stark in York, dear Rogers." Lord Stark laughed as they continued to ride through the dense forest.

"What about you, Lord Rogers? Will you be staying long?"

"I should hope so." He grinned, his eyes sparkling in a handsome manner. "I wish to trespass on Odin's hospitality for as long as he'll have me. Asgard is indeed a wonderful place."

"I am glad to hear it." Natasha replied, catching the glares of a few jealous ladies in waiting, though she was quite used to it by now.

"Just don't stay too long, Steve." Lord Stark added firmly. "You'll be needed at court in York."

~X~

They slowed by a small clearing, and Natasha looked up to see prince Loki raising his hand to halt the rest of them. Stark released a small disgruntled sigh, and Natasha's lips curled in amusement. Clearly Loki was not a favourite amongst Thor's friends, even The Warriors Three had expressed their discontent, in very subtle ways, of course.

She turned to see a herd of deer amble into the centre of the clearing to graze. Almost automatically, Lord Barton raised his bow and prepared an arrow. Loki, careful not to make any sound, slipped a dagger from his sheath on his belt and angled his wrist, ready to hurl it at the animal.

"I've got this one." He breathed, just loud enough for the rest of the party to hear. Clint slowly lowered his bow with a quiet sigh, and watched as Loki adjusted his poise.

He flicked his wrist so fast, Natasha barely saw the dagger fly from his grasp and bury itself in the skull of the nearest deer. She would have gasped at the sight, had she not been so secretly impressed with his skill.

As the animal fell to the ground with a thump, the rest quickly sprinted off. A few being caught by speedily flung arrows and daggers, Natasha could only watch as they stumbled limply to the ground and lay there lifeless, waiting to be tied up and carried off by servants.

They continued on, occasionally finding themselves on the trail of a boar, and Natasha watched as Prince Thor finished them off with his sword. Whilst some ladies gasped at the sight, and turned away, giggling with each other over the activity, Natasha watched on in fascination. However, after some time spent observing the hunt, she felt herself longing for something to do. Conversing with the hunts participants was amusing, but Natasha wanted to do more than just watch.

The party stopped in another, larger clearing that was situated beside a gentle brook. The servants quickly began setting down tables and placing platters of meats and fruits onto it. Natasha dismounted her horse and removed her leather gloves, looking around at their surroundings with a detached expression.

"You are bored, Lady Romanov." Clint observed as he dismounted his horse and sauntered over to her. "I can see it in your eyes."

"Perhaps I have grown a little weary of merely observing." She smiled, accepting a goblet of wine from a passing servant. "And we have not seen any decent game for some time. I think we may have cleaned the whole forest of all its wildlife."

"Don't speak too soon." Clint grinned as he looked past her, already slipping his bow from where it hung on his shoulder. Natasha turned around slowly to see a Fallow Doe walking slowly and cautiously by brook to drink. A few others noticed the doe and walked over to get a better look. "Here." Clint passed Natasha his bow, and she accepted it with a bemused frown. "Give it a try."

"She'll miss and it will scare it off." Loki hissed. Natasha had barely noticed his presence; she was too excited over her opportunity to take part.

"Give her the benefit of the doubt." Clint told the prince, though he never took his eyes off of Natasha, smiling proudly.

"Thank you, Barton." She smiled, and prepared an arrow with ease. She trained her aim on the doe, watching the animal as it absentmindedly drunk from the stream. She hesitated and let the arrow drop a little. "I don't know how comfortable I am with murder."

"It is not murder if you honour the animal." Loki muttered monotonously from beside her, as if he was reciting a sentence he had heard many times before. "And today's catch will be more than enough for the feast tonight."

Natasha wasn't sure if Loki was assuring her or ridiculing her for her discomfort. But his tone seemed to contrast from his words. She brushed the thought away and raised the arrow again. Without thinking too much, she released the arrow, sending it shooting towards the doe and burying it in the space between its eyes.

The rest of the party cheered as the doe fell backwards and stumbled to the ground. Natasha merely stared in disbelief.

"Looks like you don't need any training after all." Clint laughed, resting a hand on her shoulder.

"A natural aim." Loki mused, still watching where the doe had fallen. He turned to Natasha with a smug look on his features. "It must be in your blood."

She glared after him as he walked away from her. What was it with him and his obsession with her family?

Sif rushed over to her side, her face a mix of shock and pride as she congratulated Natasha excessively.

"You told me you had never even held a weapon!" Sif grinned, thrusting another goblet of wine into her hand.

"Beginners luck?" Natasha guessed with a small laugh as the two walked back to the rest of the party.

~X~

"I think this is just what we needed, Natasha." Sif announced as the two reclined on a large embroidered blanket that had been placed in the clearing with the other ladies in waiting. Platters of food surrounded them as they watched the men amble around, discussing matters of little importance to the women. "To be out of doors for longer than an hour, and actually doing something rather than just walking."

"Your saying my company was not enough for you?" Natasha jested, and Sif merely laughed, denying her accusation. Natasha smiled softly, she would have laughed had her mind not been so preoccupied with thoughts of the rumoured portrait. She had only ever heard of her parents through tales, she would greatly like to see what they looked like.

~X~

She opened the door to the library softly, slipping in so not to make too much noise. She didn't know why she was acting as though she were on some sort of secretive mission, but something about the whole situation made her subconsciously as stealthy as she could be.

Had anyone else been present, she would have been embarrassed by the gasp that escaped her lips. The library was far grander than she had ever imagined. It consisted of three floors, all walls lined with books. The first floor contained stacks upon stacks of old, thick, leather bound books. Plush red armchairs and chaise lounges were placed generously around the room for visitors to relax and read. Everything was made out of dark, richly coloured wood and beautifully deep reds. A large hearth on the left side of the room warmed the atmosphere so nicely, Natasha was sure she would be content to stay there for the rest of her days. Two wide staircases lead to the next levels, they were more like spacious balconies, and the bookcases were spread further apart to make space for portraits. She decided that would be where she would begin, and made her way to the steps.

It didn't take long for her to find it, only one portrait in the whole gallery contained the image of an important looking man standing beside a woman who's crimson hair matched Natasha's so perfectly, it had to be her mother. In her arms was a newborn child, deep blue eyes peering out from under the blanket it had been wrapped in.

Natasha felt tears prick in her eyes as she red the plaque that was placed beneath the portrait.

_'The Lord and Lady Romanov with daughter, Natasha Romanov.'_

So it was true. But she had no idea that she had been born in Asgard, just how long had she lived there? Was that why Frigga was so attached to her?

"Do you see what I was talking about?" She heard the familiar voice of the prince behind her, and Natasha spun around, curtsying as she avoided her gaze with the prince, lest he see how here eyes were reddened.

"My apologies, my lord." She murmured, keeping here eyes trained on his feet. "I did not know the library was occupied, the door was unlocked."

Loki waved away the formality and stepped forward, prompting Natasha to meet his gaze. He gestured towards the portrait with one hand, a book in the other.

"Do you not see how much you resemble your mother?" He asked, stopping beside her as she turned to look at the painting once more. "It's the hair, the nose… and the lips."

Natasha felt herself go flush, he may have been speaking with completely innocent intentions, yet the way he looked at her after speaking of her lips sent a pleasant shiver though her body.

"But you have your fathers eyes." He continued, turning to face her a little better. "I'm surprised you didn't know this portrait existed."

"Ivan Never told me, and I hadn't before had the chance to enter the library."

"Would you care for a tour?" He asked, an eyebrow cocked. He placed a hand on the small of her back and began to walk with her without waiting for an answer. He didn't really need one, the eagerness in here eyes was badly hidden.

He showed her the other portraits, of famous noblemen, old kings that were long dead. He showed her where certain books would be situated, where the librarian would sit so that she could ask where to find what she wanted. All the while Natasha felt like she was holding her breath. The prince of Asgard, of all people, was walking her around the library, presenting her with numerous books and promising her she would enjoy them. It was indeed a surreal experience, his attitude was so changed that she wondered if she had dreamt up this gentlemanly prince.

"You did not know that you were born in Asgard, I presume." Loki wondered as they meandered through the bookcases on the first floor.

"No, I had no idea." She replied, her voice was small, though, not out of shyness but out of precaution, she didn't want to offend the prince twice in the same day.

"You don't remember anything?"

"How could I?" She asked, stopping in her tracks out of confusion. "I was only a baby."

"You lived in Asgard for four years," He announced, his tone somber, and Natasha went pale again. There was so much that she didn't know, why had Ivan not told her any of this?" "Until your father and mine had a small dispute, and felt it best for you to return to Midgard."

She could recall hazy memories of golden building, much like the ones there in Asgard, though she had always thought very little of them. Suddenly they made sense. "How do you know this?" She asked in a whisper, her voice unable to be more than such without breaking.

"I was five when you were born, I remember it vaguely, Thor would know more than I, but I do remember when you left. My mother was distraught to see your parents go, she had grown so accustomed to you in court, I think it was because she did not have a daughter of her own. Your mother and father were the closest to my parents than any other at court, like family. When you and your parents departed from Asgard, it left a rift in the court.

"When the news came, only days later, that your parents had perished in a fire, I remember my mother wept for days. It was believed that you too were amongst the deceased. So as you may imagine, when she discovered your true parentage, she could hardly contain her joy on such a matter, the letters she sent to my brother and I are proof enough of that."

Natasha was speechless. It was as if he were speaking of someone completely different from herself. She had always known of her true parentage, Ivan had been sure not to keep her from that, but their reputation; their status was completely unknown to her.

Loki seemed to notice how shaken she was, and decided it was appropriate to change the matter of their conversation.

"I was very impressed today." I stated, and Natasha looked up at him. He hated how his heart twinged at the sight of the single tear running down her cheek, he was not adept when it came to soothing ones nerves or emotions. A change of subject was the most he could do, to try and pull her away from the more melancholy recesses of her mind. "Your aim was near perfect."

"I suppose it was luck." She managed, her voice still weak, much to her disdain, yet she allowed a small smile to form on her lips. She was proud of herself after all.

"No, I think it is a natural talent." Loki countered, "Your father was said to be very skilled with his aim." He stepped backwards, reaching for a letter opener that lay on a desk beside him. "I would like us to partake in a little experiment."

He handed her the letter opener, and she took it without question, but her expression reflected her bemusement.

"What is it that you wish me to do, my lord?" She questioned, weighing the knife in her hands.

"Please, 'Loki' will suffice." He stepped away and pointed to a spot on the wall before dabbing his finger in a pot of ink and marking the spot where his other finger rested on the wall. "Now, I want you to throw the letter opener, and I want it to land on this very dot."

"I beg your pardon, my lord, but…"

"Please?" He cut her off. "It will not matter that you penetrate the wood with the blade. With the amount of time that I spend in this room, I think it suitable for me to be the one to worry about its appearance." Natasha was not sure if she had imagined it, but was the prince… pleading?

"What if I miss?"

"That is what we are trying to discover." He grinned slyly, stepping back towards her.

He stood behind her, hands resting on her hips gingerly as he helped her align her stance. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck he was so close. She was sure he could hear the way her heart was thrumming violently against her ribcage. It was the first time she had ever been so physically close to a man, and of course it had to be a prince.

"Good." He breathed, his chin a hairs breadth away from resting on her shoulder. Natasha felt her body subconsciously leaning into his, and her eyes fluttered closed as she inhaled the smell of smoke that lingered around the prince, most probably from the small fire that had been set up during the hunt. Just as Natasha was beginning to grow fond of the contact, he pulled away. But Natasha found it was much easier to focus without the prince breathing down her neck, literally and figuratively speaking. "Now, when you're ready."

Without a moment to hesitate, Natasha flung the letter opener at the mark. It moved so quickly she had barely registered when it sliced into the wood, only Loki's echoing claps and laughter were what told her that she had hit the mark perfectly.

"I told you." He smirked, pulling the blade from the wall and handing it back to her. "Natural aim." He picked up an old, dusty and forgotten book, twirling it in his fingers a moment before holding it out in front of his chest. "Now try again, and this time aim for the centre of the cover."

"I could hit you." She protested. Sif may think him mischievous and cruel, but one thing was for certain, he was tremendously reckless.

"I trust you." He smiled. He said the words so nonchalantly that Natasha had to wonder if they even meant anything to him.

"Really, my lord… I-"

"Natasha." He cut her off sternly, giving her a look that seemed to say, _'Are you really going to argue with me?' _

She closed her eyes in exasperation, taking a deep breath. Was she really about to throw a blade at the prince?

"It would be best if you did not close your eyes for this." Loki quipped, a shudder of worry running down his spine.

She aligned herself in the right position, training her aim on the cover of the book. In one swift flick of her wrist, the blade soared through the air and buried itself in the centre of the book with such power that Loki took a step back out of sheer surprise. He chuckled, turning the book around to get a look at Natasha's good work.

"It is as if you have been training for your entire life." He laughed, a little out of disbelief, but mostly out of amazement.

Natasha couldn't help but share the Loki's enthusiasm, and a large smile overtook her lips, stretching into a grin. "Sif will be sad that I no longer require her teaching."

"Well, Sif has always had difficulty keeping a lid on her emotions." He muttered bitterly, still examining the book with interest. His lips twitched at his own remark and he set the book down on a desk, reaching his spare hand toward Natasha. "Walk with me to the dining hall, will you?"

"Of course." Natasha replied, managing to stifle her surprise. She took his hand as he led her to the hall in which numbers of court members were preparing for another round of feasting.

Loki's arrival did not go unnoticed, nor did the red headed woman on his arm. Natasha swore she saw a grin pass the queens lips as Loki led her into the room.

Not wanting any more unwanted attention, Natasha pulled her hand away from Loki's and gave a quick curtsey, murmuring a 'thank you' before slipping away into the crowds of rowdy guests. All the while she was unaware of Ivan, watching intently as he sat at the kings side, his mind already bubbling with plans to use her to his advantage.

* * *

_**A/N:**__I was going to publish this earlier this morning, but I went to get a Christmas tree instead, and then found myself preoccupied playing Candy Crush for the rest of the day, but here it is, finally!_

_I was as little bit worried at first with this story, because I knew the sort of outline that I wanted, but I didn't know the whole plot before I started writing. But good news! The other day at work, I was completely away with the fairies and managed to come up with the rest of the story, and let me tell you guys, I am soooooo excited for you to read it. Hell, I'm excited to write it!_

_Anyways, you guys are so awesome for your reviews! Please don't stop with that, because I love it so..._


	5. Secrets & Lies

_**A/N:**__ Thank you all for your lovely reviews! I wanted to get this chapter out sooner, but my head has been aching like crazy recently, so I had to distance myself from my laptop, as I thought that may be the cause of it all. Also, I've basically used three names from Norse mythology for my own use later on in this chapter, I looked into their characters as much as possible, with what little sources I have, but this is AU, so i guess there can be a bit of a stretch... right?_

_Anyways, enjoy my lovely readers! x_

* * *

"You were very impressive on the hunt yesterday." Ivan muttered, his attention focused on the way he was cutting his venison. He sat across from Natasha as they ate their dinner. It had been an idea of hers, something that had been mulling in her mind for some time, for them to sit down together for a meal at least once a week, in order to catch up on each other's busy lives. She had tracked him down earlier that morning and proposed the idea. Dinner took place in Ivan's quarters, unlike Natasha, he had been allocated an adjoining dining room and study. "I'm surprised at how well your aim was."

"Apparently it must be in my blood." Natasha retorted, not looking up at her father figure. "I am told that my father was very skilled in such area's."

Ivan's interest was instantly piqued, and he looked up at Natasha with curiosity flooding his expression. "And who told you that?"

"Loki." Natasha replied, meeting Ivan's gaze just soon enough to notice a spark of excitement flare in his eyes. "He says I have a natural aim."

"I did not know that you were on such informal terms with the prince, enough to address him without his title." Ivan prodded, trying to squeeze as much information from Natasha as he could. "It is considered rude, and in some cases there are consequences, to not address a prince by his title."

"He asked me not to." Natasha murmured, feeling somewhat sheepish. Was it normal for the prince to ask such a thing?

Ivan suppressed a gleeful smile, her situation was exactly how he needed it to be. But that all could come later, and he nodded, allowing Natasha to continue with what she was saying.

"Anyway, it is besides the point."

"How so?" Ivan questioned, returning to his plate, feigning disinterest.

"There are things that you have not told me about my parents, Ivan. Things that I should have known."

"Everything that I disclosed with you was the truth." Ivan sighed, lacing his fingers together and resting his chin on them as he watched her reaction. She was frowning, seemingly unsatisfied with his answer. "And everything that I kept from you was purely for your own safety."

"My safety?" She repeated, her brows knitting together in a cocktail of anger and confusion. "Surely it would have been better for me to have known everything, to avoid such embarrassment from my own ignorance?"

"I suppose prince Loki told you everything." Ivan muttered irritably. He clenched his jaw, unsuccessfully hiding his anger that the very information he had kept from Natasha was now common knowledge thanks to the prince.

"That I was born in Asgard, that my parents and the king and queen argued before my departure, yes, he told me that much. Is this why you brought me back? As if I were some sort of peace offering, something you could use to help you worm yourself into the court?"

"Natalia, enough!" Ivan shouted, slamming his fist onto the table, causing the plates to shake in their place. The use of her more formal name that he only ever used in excitement or anger causing her to freeze in fear. "I am not this man, this man that you have convinced yourself that I am! I have spent half of my life raising you, trying to do best by you, but still you think me diabolical and cruel!"

"I'm sorry." She stuttered. As much as she hated to admit it, Ivan's anger scared her more than most things. He was such a calm man a majority of the time, but when his temper was lost, he was like a completely different person. Natasha usually prided herself I her fearlessness, but this was a matter in which her bravery ran thin.

"After everything I have done for you, do you truly believe me to be so tyrannical, so cruel?" He asked her, under his heated façade, Natasha could detect his hurt from her words. "We shall speak on this matter no more, I think our dinner is over."

~X~

"You must keep your body relaxed." Sif told her, demonstrating the correct stance, holding her sword out in front of her, pointing it at Natasha with a wide grin. "Keep it balanced, so you may strike or parry without coming to any harm."

Natasha copied her stance, making sure she had the correct footing before she looked back at her friend, an eyebrow cocked as if to say, 'Next?'

They were the only two in the training grounds, something Sif had anticipated when she had suggested teaching Natasha that morning over breakfast. It was too early for the men to train, some still eating, even sleeping still. The hour wasn't so early for Natasha, she was used to activities in the morning, even if most of the time it was running out to the gardens for herbs or climbing the ladder in the library for books, though the latter was a more recent activity.

Sif guided her through the correct techniques of swordplay, teaching her how to block, how to strike. Natasha was surprised to find that Sif was in fact rather talented in that area, she swung her sword with elegance and precision, something that Natasha was finding difficulty with.

"You're adapting to the weapon well." Sif stated, as the two rested on a bench to the side of the grounds. "When my father taught me, I took a while to even learn the proper way to hold it. You seem to learn quickly, though I would suppose your natural talent lies in working from a distance, like firing arrows or…"

"Throwing knives?" Natasha guessed with a smirk.

"Precisely, I- wait, when have you thrown knives?" Sif questioned confusedly.

"Never mind." Natasha answered, shaking her head. She supposed bringing up her knife-throwing lesson with the prince Loki was not such a good idea, especially since Sif seemed to loathe the man. "Do you think there will be another hunting party?"

"I should think not, not after how much game they brought back last time." Sif said thoughtfully. "I believe even after tonight's feast, the kitchens will still have enough for another week."

"There is to be _another_ feast?" Natasha gasped, her hand instinctively moving to her belly. She didn't know how much more of the rich, meaty foods she could take.

"It is to pay homage to the King Starks departure, he leaves tomorrow with his courtier Lord Banner and a few of his other men, but I think Lord Rogers and Lord Barton have plans to stay." Sif divulged. "But you can always expect many more feasts to come, I think gorging is the only thing that a man can do."

"No, my lady." Volstagg interjected, seemingly appearing from nowhere. Natasha didn't think that a man of his structure would be any good at sneaking up on people, yet he was successful in making Sif jump almost off of her seat. "It is, in fact, all we _want_ to do."

"Well, that and perhaps visiting the whore house once or twice." Sif laughed.

"Now, now, Sif." Fandral laughed, walking from the open aired corridor at that opened up to the grounds. "Do not be so vulgar." Sif's cheeks reddened as Hogun and the prince Thor appeared shortly afterwards, she and Natasha instantly stood up, but Thor smiled and gestured for them to sit back down.

"Is it not a little early to be training?" Thor asked, though his tone was more of amusement than confusion.

"It is the only time we can, without being interrupted by you odious men." Sif retorted slyly, and Natasha would have gasped at her words, had she not known of how well she knew these men.

"At least, that is what we thought." Natasha joined in, enjoying the feeling of being so impudent, it felt so long since she had been able to actually say what was on her mind, rather than holding her tongue and being as polite as she could manage.

"Tell me," Prince Thor grinned. "Why is it that two ladies, such as yourselves would want to learn how to fight?"

"To pass the time." Natasha replied. "Sif and I have a whole day to ourselves, and I've always enjoyed learning new things."

"And Sif always likes to boss people around." Fandral smirked, laughing when he noticed how Sif scowled at him.

"Lady Natasha, I was wondering if you would take a walk with me." Thor announced bluntly, changing the matter of discussion so sharply that even Hogunn, who always kept a rather placid expression, faltered and narrowed his eyes in wonder.

"Of course." Natasha nodded, sensing Sif's eyes on her warily. "Though, I would not wish to take you from your friends."

"It is no matter." The prince replied, holding out his hand to help Natasha stand. "I will return to them shortly, but first there is a matter in which I wish to speak with you on."

The Thor walked Natasha down the corridor, lined with pillars, away from Sif and the Warriors Three. It was not until they were a considerable distance from them that Thor decided to finally speak.

"My brother has informed me that you now know of your situation with your parents." He raised an eyebrow at her as if to ask if this statement was correct. Natasha nodded and Thor looked away, continuing with what he had to say. "But as he was quite young all of those years ago, it seems that I know more than he, though I would never say such a thing in front of him, he is far too proud."

Natasha sniggered at Thor's quip, and even he broke from his expression of seriousness just long enough to flash a cheerful grin.

"There is still so much that I do not know about myself, and though Ivan never once bent the truth, I fell as though I have been deceived all of my life."

"There is one matter in which I am more knowledgeable than my brother, as it concerns me and not him." Thor paused, thinking of a correct way to put his words. "You know that your parents left Asgard after a quarrel with my own?"

"Yes."

"The reason for such a disagreement was the proposition of betrothal between the eldest son of Odin, and the daughter of the Romanovs, to combine two houses, so beloved by the people of Asgard." Thor took one look at Natasha's horrified expression and sighed. "Your mother was adamant that the betrothal not take place, she believed you should have the right to choose who you marry, and my mother shared her belief.

"However, my father believed it an honourable pairing, and he demanded that your father consent. Your father, at the will of your mother, asked mine to reconsider, to perhaps compromise and return to the matter at a later date when you and I were much older, but my father was unrelenting. Thus a rift was created between the houses, and your parents no longer felt welcome in Asgard."

"But, what of the betrothal now?" Natasha inquired, wide-eyed and trying to stop herself from panicking. She hated it when people tried to force her into things she did not want to do, and though he was a prince, and a good man, the last thing she wanted was the throne. There were too many complications with such a position, a queen would never fully have control over her life, and have to meet the expectations of the public. Natasha was far more comfortable in the position she was in then.

"Seeing as your parents are deceased, and you are of a certain age, there is no way a betrothal can take place without your consent."

"Thank the gods." Natasha let out a long sigh of relief at Thor's words. Freezing when she realised what she had said. "I'm sorry my lord, it's just…"

"Do not worry." Thor chuckled, patting her on the shoulder. "I must admit, when I discovered this, I too was relieved. I mean no offense of course, it is just that…" He trailed off, his head turning in the direction of where they had come, and Natasha knew what he meant.

"You know, Sif has been complaining to me all day about how here feet ache after Volstagg tripped on them during the dance at the feast the other night." Thor turned to her, looking confused at the strange change of topic, but Natasha merely smiled and continued. "I'm sure tonight at the festivities, she would benefit from a more experienced and… agile partner."

Thor blinked, comprehending her meaning. He took a slow intake of breath before his lips split into a grin. "I'm sure she will not be disappointed."

~X~

She was sat on the red velvet chaise lounge, having noticed that she was alone in the library, save for the librarian that was hidden behind stacks of books, she let herself splay all over the seat, finding the perfect position for reading. The fire beside her crackled in the hearth, and painted her with a warm orange glow. It was growing dark outside, though she noted that it was not so late as it looked, but merely the effect of the winter nights.

"Shouldn't you be preparing for the feast?" Loki's smooth voice asked from behind her. She bolted upright, book clutched to her chest. Damn him for being so silent and catlike, she was sure he would give her death by surprise at some point. She speedily arranged herself before standing and turning to face the prince. He stood with his hands behind his back and his head tilted to the side in curiosity.

"Is that your way of asking for me to leave?" She asked her lips curling upwards slyly.

"By no means." He chuckled, stepping tentatively towards her. "I merely thought that it took a considerable amount of time for a lady to prepare herself."

"How long does it take a prince?"

"We worry far less about aiming to please." He remarked with a smirk.

"And who should I have that I need to please?" Natasha frowned, taking a step back. "Are women so terrible that they must spend hours perfecting themselves?"

"That is not what I meant." Loki replied, looking apologetic and somewhat saddened by how she had moved away. "Forgive me, I have come across as rude, I did not mean to."

"No, I should not have been so audacious." Natasha looked at her feet sheepishly. "I should go, I'm sorry."

She curtsied and turned to leave, but Loki's long, slender fingers wrapped around her wrist, stopping her and pulling her back. She turned back to face him, completely bewildered by his actions.

"Do not apologise for your confidence Natasha, it is one of your most admirable qualities, and I should be sad to see it repressed." He spoke so earnestly, Natasha forgot about the way his hand moved down her wrist and slipped into her hand.

"Thank you." She murmured, her gaze finding his bright green eyes. The compliment affected her in such a strange way, hitting the base of her stomach with peculiar warmth. It was the same feeling she felt when the butchers boy, Alexei, back in Midgard had told her she was 'the most amazing girl he knew.' That little courtship hadn't lasted long, however, ending in Ivan telling him to 'scram' and 'never speak to Natasha again.' Perhaps protective was an understatement for him.

Though she was pleased by Loki's sudden display of kindness, she was also confused. Sif had been insistent that he was a cruel and cunning sort of man. But she could not for the life of her see such traits in the prince that stood before her.

They stood in silence for a short moment, and Natasha was first to pull away, giving another short curtsey and leaving. She thought if she were to stay another minute her heart would lurch right out of her chest.

Loki watched her leave, and when she was out of sight he let go of the breath he had been holding without his intention. She was a marvellous creature, so different from all the other ladies in waiting that his mother paraded around with her. She was clever, witty, intriguing, all traits that seemed to pull him towards her like some sort of magnetism.

He sighed again, remembering her friendship with Sif and wondering what horror stories concerning him she would have filled Natasha's head with. It was true, he was imperfect, sometimes ruthless and sneaky, but if she believed such rumours, then why did she humour him so, why did she not merely ignore him?

He moved from the position he had been standing in since she had departed, and picked up the book she had left behind. He chuckled to himself as he read the cover, it was one of the tomes he had recommended, so it meant she trusted him, didn't it? At least to an extent.

Loki placed the book back down and made his leave from the library, not once realising that he had been watched the entirety of his time there.

~X~

At the feast, Natasha and Sif were seated with other ladies in waiting, much to their discontent. The other women had grown to dislike Natasha, muttering rude comments behind her back about how she stole the men's attention and a wasted her time with silly pastimes such as taking walks and practicing sword fighting with Sif. Indeed, the two of them were not favourites amongst the court, their ideas were seen as pathetic and un-ladylike. So they removed themselves from the tables general conversation, instead making plans for another bout of training.

When the dancing began, Loki stayed in his seat, despite his mother's insistence that he join in. Instead he decided to watch the crowds move together where he sat. A majority of the time he found his gaze trained on Natasha, watching how she moved so fluently, every twist, every turn was soft and elegant. Once or twice she would look up and meet his gaze before quickly turning away, her face becoming flushed, and Loki would smirk behind his goblet, amused by how someone with such fire could be embarrassed so. It was endearing.

He watched as her smile split into a wide grin, and following the line of her vision he saw his brother leading the Lady Sif to dance. The look of pride and victory in Natasha's eyes lead him to believe that she had something to do with it. Thor was always one for dancing, but when it came to the Lady Sif he had always drawn away, not out of rudeness or hate, it could easily come across as such, but Loki was wiser than that, Thor drew away out of bashfulness. The eldest prince was smitten, though he would never admit it, and it gave Loki great joy to see that Natasha had been the one to successfully pull him out of his shell. The woman was cunning. Loki liked that.

Now, Loki could understand his brother's reluctance to join the festivities before. Natasha didn't intimidate him, but her brazen attitude had affected him one too many times, and he didn't feel like getting red faced in the middle of a crowded hall. So now it was he who was pulling away, distancing himself from it all.

~X~

Natasha danced to her hearts desire, the wine having gone to her head and warmed her blood. She and Lord Fandral moved together, making an exquisite pair, but all Natasha could focus on was the grin on Sif's face as Thor led her about the space. She knew Sif had been a little off with her since Thor's invitation to walk with him earlier that day, she would have never admitted that it was jealousy, hell, she wouldn't have admitted anything when it came to Thor, but Natasha could see there were feelings there, so a little meddling wouldn't go amiss, and it didn't as it seemed.

When the dance ended she curtseyed to Fandral, and with a coy smile he kissed her hand. "Always a pleasure, Lady Romanov." He winked before disappearing into the crowds.

She was about to return to her table for a moment of rest before she danced again, but just as she began to step away, Ivan stopped her, moving in front of her and blocking her way. She wasn't completely surprised that he would approach her, but she was a little irked. She had managed to avoid him thus far, she wasn't really in the mood for more of his lies.

"Natasha." He greeted her with a nod, much less enthusiastically than the last time they had greeted each other, which was before their dinner the evening prior.

"Ivan." Natasha curtseyed, it never felt normal to curtsey to her surrogate father, but residing in the palace meant that such formalities were a must.

"After you have tended to her majesty later this evening, I would like for you to meet me in my study, I have a matter to discuss with you, it is of great importance."

"Of course." Natasha nodded uncertainly. She wondered if he planned on confessing all that she did not yet know about her past, it would certainly ease her mind and the tension between the two.

Ivan nodded and turned away, without so much as a 'goodbye' or 'see you then.'

Natasha sighed and made her way to the table, she needed to think, to mentally prepare herself for the knowledge she would obtain in Ivan's study. Did she even _want_ to know? More than anything, she knew she needed a drink.

~X~

Once again, Natasha found herself with the droll task of picking the pins from the queen's hair. Why did she insist of wearing so many? It wasn't that she didn't enjoy speaking with the queen, she was perfectly lovely, but on that certain evening, with the meeting with Ivan looming, something about the task at hand felt dreary, and Natasha was looking forward to it being finished.

She made sure not to rush, however, and kept her composure cool, even as ideas of what Ivan had to tell her swam through her mind. She couldn't help but imagine the worst. She already knew a considerable amount, but she knew that there was always more to a story, there just needed to be a little digging to be done.

When the queen dismissed her with a smile and a kiss on the cheek, Natasha slowly exited her chambers, but as the door shut behind her she practically bounded down the corridor. She rushed her way to Ivan's rooms, so that when she knocked on his door, she was almost out of breath.

"Come in, child." Ivan smiled meekly as he met her in the doorway. He turned and allowed her entrance, checking that the corridor was clear before he closed his door with care. Natasha didn't miss this. She was about to question his suspiciousness, until she turned to see three more men in the study with them.

All three were consorts to the king and crucial members to the court, Lord Tyr, Lord Fitch and Lord Kvasir. They stood proudly at the end of a table, each man with their hands behind their backs as they surveyed her from a distance.

"What is this?" Natasha asked, turning back to Ivan who gestured for her to sit.

She took a seat at the end of the table, in front of the three noblemen. Ivan took a seat in front of where they stood at the other end of the table, facing Natasha. She frowned at him, this obviously was not about her parents.

"She _is_ a pretty little thing." Lord Tyr observed, narrowing his eyes as he scrutinised her.

"And you say that they have become quite close?" Lord Kvasir asked Ivan who nodded in reply. "Then I think she should suffice."

"Ivan, why have you called me here?" She finally asked. Ivan shifted uncomfortably in his seat and cleared his throat.

"It has come to our attention that prince Loki and yourself have become rather close." Ivan stated, rubbing his hands together in the way that he did when he was nervous.

"I wouldn't say so." She lied. Her heart began to beat faster as she wondered if she was in some kind of trouble for speaking with him so often.

"Do not deceive me, girl." Ivan muttered. "I've seen the two of you at the banquets, and in the library this afternoon."

"Am I not allowed to speak with him? Is this why I am being scolded?"

"You are not being scolded." Fitch chuckled from behind Ivan. "We merely have a proposition for you."

"More of a demand than a proposition." Tyr correction, gaining disgruntled glances from his two comrades.

"You see, Natalia." Ivan began, offering her a more sympathetic look, and from that she could discern that what they were asking of her was of great importance and possibly dangerous. "The king has worries about his youngest son. There are secrets that cannot be known to him, secrets that even we four do not know." He gestured to himself and the men behind him. "He believes that Loki needs a distraction, something to keep him from wondering too far into the palaces history and discovering things that may very well break him."

"What are you suggesting?" She asked, already a little sure she knew what he was implying.

"As you have grown close to him, we believe you would be best suited to act as his mistress." Kvasir answered. His expression placid, even as Natasha's eyes grew wide and she paled, her jaw going slack. After a small silence, filled with uneasiness, Natasha finally decided to speak up.

"Why me? Why do you wish to sell me off like a common whore?" She questioned, her voice raised and making the other men uncomfortable.

"Natalia, please-" Ivan began, but Natasha cut him off.

"Why not use an actual whore instead, or perhaps you could find the man a wife?" She lurched from her chair, hands gripping to the table with pure seething rage. "Why ruin my reputation because the king is so damn enigmatic about everything?"

"Be careful how you speak, girl." Tyr growled, but Ivan placated him with a small wave of his hand.

"Natalia, I know that we are asking a lot of you, but know that by doing this you are helping your sovereign, your kingdom. It is a responsibility that I think you may handle far better than anyone else, I trust you, and so does he. That is why we have chosen you for this task, Loki needs someone he can trust, someone he can confide in." Ivan rested his lips on his knuckles as he waited for her reaction.

"Is that not what a wife does?"

"Loki is betrothed to another, yes, but he needs someone he can care about, more often than not, in the case of a betrothal, the partners do not care for one another, and Loki's affection towards you is rare in such a man. You will distract him, comfort him, and keep him from his usual mischief."

"What about me?" She asked, her anger becoming far more apparent. "This will ruin me, how would I ever marry after being tainted by him?"

"Arrangements would be made." Kvasir told her. "A suitor would be informed of your situation and sworn to secrecy."

"So I would be forced to give my virtue to one man and my life to another?"

"The house of Odin is overflowing with secrets and lies. It is our duty, as members of the court, to take whatever actions necessary to keep them from surfacing."

"Think on it." Fitch interjected. We will give you until tomorrow morning to have come to a decision, but know that your refusal with lead to your loyalty to the court being questioned."

Fitch, Tyr and Kvasir left, after each giving terse bows, leaving Natasha and Ivan alone. She glared at him from across the table, tears pricking the corners of her eyes.

"What would he think of me?" She whispered, her emotions bubbling to the surface after being so long repressed. "He would think me repulsive and cheap."

"Do not tell me that you have grown to care for the prince?" Ivan asked, alarmed by her words. "You best knock that notion on the head girl. If he truly cared for you in that way, if he respected you at all, he would deny you his bed. It is a universal truth in men, lust will always prevail over love."

~X~

She lay in her bed, her mind abuzz with the evening's events. She had spent a great deal of time weeping I her bed, after she had returned from Ivan's, like a petulant child. Her face was still blotched as she lay there, thinking.

She thought back to the strange feeling in her gut when Loki had spoken so kindly to her that late afternoon in the library. She hit a palm to her forehead irritably, how had she not realised Ivan had been watching. Her observation skills were seriously in need of a tune up. But nevertheless, just recalling the way his hand had slipped into hers, gently and softly, like she was made of glass, it made her lips curl into a reluctant smile. Could it be true that he felt something for her? If he did then she certainly could not feign such infatuation for him, it would only be cruel to use him in such a way.

But then again, when she remembered how he had placed his hands on her hips during their lesson in the library, how his breath, soft and hot, had tickled her neck. A heat pooled between her legs at the memory.

She would lose everything if she consented to their plan, but the heat between her legs and the fluttering in her gut told her otherwise. She would be aiding the kingdom, she would be showing her loyalty, and to do otherwise would not only jeopardise her position at court but Ivan's also.

She tossed and turned in her bed, unable to sleep with such thoughts on her mind. It would be near impossible to come to a decision, when one half of her wanted one thing and the other half another.

She threw her blankets off of her and quickly dressed herself. Even if the sun had barley peaked over the horizon, it was never too early to pick herbs for the queen.

~X~

She had almost smiled when she heard the familiar crunch of leaves behind her, and she turned, watching as Loki slowly approached her in that tentative way that he always did, as if he thought she would run away like a wild animal.

"We meet again, Natasha."

"I wished for you to come." She admitted.

"I wanted to see you." He replied, twirling a sprig of lavender that he had already picked between his forefinger and thumb. "In truth, I walked here the morning prior, hoping to come across you then, but you were absent it seemed."

"Why did you want to see me?" She prodded, intrigued by his display of truthfulness. She had barely been able to get the words out, she was so surprised by his confession.

"You amaze me Natasha." He whispered, running the pad of his thumb over her lips and his finger hooked under her chin, tilting her head up. She could smell the fresh lavender on his touch, the oil he had pressed from it now coating her lips. "Truly, you have enchanted me, sorceress."

"I've told you, I know little of witchcraft." She smirked, but she was honestly trying to withhold the inevitable. The way Loki's gaze flickered to her lips and back to her eyes, she knew what he wanted.

"I think you lied." He replied, his voice a low murmur. Without another word, he dipped his head low, lips pressing against hers so softly, so briefly, but it was enough to bring up all of Natasha's strength and leave her weak again. As if by their own accord, her hands snaked their way to the back of his neck, holding him there for more. His hands around her waist kept her steady, but still she felt like she could fall at any moment.

He rested his forehead against hers for a brief moment, before pressing their lips together for a second time and then a third, neither of them able to pull apart from each other.

The trap was set.


	6. Sweet Torture

_**A/N:**__ Wow, so I realise it's been a while since I updated, but I guess the holidays completely threw me off, so apologies or the wait. A huge thank you to you lovely reviewers and followers etc. The response to the last chapter was os lovely, you guys are amazing!_

_This is kind of a filler chapter, but I tried to make it as interesting as possible, it's kind of the bridge to the next part of the story, when things are gonna get interesting. _

_P.S. Be warned, there be smut ahead! _

* * *

The golden hallways of Asgard were flooded with golden sunlight, and the sound of children's laughter reverberated against the walls. A young boy, hair raven black and eyes a piercing green, shifts behind a pillar, hearing his brothers footsteps approach.

"Loki?" Thor calls, voice breather from running, and with a slight playful lilt to it. "I know you're here, you're not _that_ good at hiding."

He wants to protest to his brother's statement, but can't risk losing their game. Instead he stifles a chuckle and slips into the shadows.

"Brother, I'm bored, can we not play something else?" The ten year-old moans, stamping his feet stubbornly.

Loki watches as his brother sighs and turns back down the hall, he's probably given up and resorted to seeking out Fandrall for some entertainment. When his brother has disappeared, the raven-haired prince walks out of the shade and contemplates what to do next. The day had been long, with nothing for the young princes to do but wasted time with basic games.

He makes his way to the library, running with all the enthusiasm a five year old should have. Upon hearing the chatter of his parents, he pauses outside the library doors, presses his head against them and listens in.

"I will, and cannot, agree to this." A male voice murmurs. The voice is barely audible from the other side of the wooden doors, but Loki could just about hear what they were saying.

"You swore to protect this kingdom, Romanov," he hears his fathers gruff tone, it's calm, but even Loki can sense the tension in the room. "This is all I ask."

"She is not yet five years old, and you want to marry her off with your son."

"They will be betrothed, Romanov, they shan't marry until they are of a more suitable age. It is perfectly reasonable; I do not see what qualms you could have about you daughter being a queen."

"Her mother and I both dislike the idea of tethering her to another so early in her life." He hears the discomfort in the Romanov man's tone, and considers leaving his trip to the library for another time.

He turns to leave, but is confronted with a small girl sitting by a pillar beside him. Her knees are tucked under her chin as she watches him with large blue eyes, hidden behind masses of red curls.

"They're talking about me." She murmurs. Her gaze drops to the floor bashfully as Loki takes a step towards her.

"You're Lord Romanovs daughter, aren't you?"

"My name is Natasha."

"What are they talking about?"

"Me." She replies, brows furrowing as she scrutinises him. "I already said that."

"I meant, why are they talking about you?"

"I don't know." She says quietly, tucking her knees close to her chest. "I think I'm in trouble, but I'm not sure."

He takes a step closer and she shies away again, like the injured animals he would find in the forest with Thor. He sits down in front of her, realising then how much the height difference between them is.

"How old are you?"

"Four." She smiles, showing the number with her fingers proudly.

"I'm Loki." He shakes her hand, it's small in his, almost fragile. "The prince."

Her eyes widen for a moment, her surprise is cut short when there is a shout from inside the library, and Natasha flinches, bringing her knees closer to her body.

"If this is how you feel, Romanov, then I must question your loyalty to the court, and to the kingdom!"

"Then I think it best for me to leave."

"Yes, that would be wise."

The doors are thrown open and a tall man, with blue eyes and tousled brown hair stands above the children. He looks down at Natasha, eyes widening as he realises she'd been there for the entirety of his conversation with the king.

"What are you doing here, Natasha?" He asks, walking over and hoisting her up into his arms. "I told you to stay with your mother."

He gives Loki a worrisome look and carries Natasha away. She looks over her fathers shoulder, waving at the boy enthusiastically. "Goodbye, Loki the prince."

He waves back, half wondering what had happened to make her father so concerned, but mostly wondering if he could go into the library yet.

~X~

Loki walked her back to her chamber, his hand on the small of her back the entire time. They made sure that they were seen by no one, and Natasha was grateful that he was careful to not have her reputation ruined. To be seen so affectionate with the prince would only ruin her. But she knew the dangers of what she was doing, and she had done it anyway.

"May I see you later today?" He half whispered as he kissed her hand.

"Of course, my lord." Loki gives her a look and she chuckled. "Of course, Loki."

He hated the way she addressed him with such a formal title, as if she were inferior to him. She really didn't understand just how special she was, especially to him.

"Good night, Natasha." He smiled, his finger hooked under her chin and tilted her head up to capture her lips. He kiss was soft and gentle, leaving Natasha somewhat lightheaded after he broke away. He gave her one last signature smirk and left, disappearing into the darkness of the hallways.

She sighed and entered her chamber, picking up her book from her nightstand and settling into bed to read for the next few hours until she would go for breakfast with Sif. Despite her head buzzing with thoughts and worry, Natasha actually felt rather peaceful and sated, and after mere minutes, she drifted into a light and gentle slumber.

Though her sleep was neither lengthy nor deep, she dreamt still, of golden hallways, large wooden doors and a young boy with raven black hair, shaking her hand. It felt like a memory, like something she had experienced before, but it did not feel like her own. It felt foreign, old and forgotten.

She awoke to the bright sun in her eyes, and the familiar gentle tap of Sif's knuckles on her door. She was already dressed, so she just smoothed down her hair before greeting her friend.

"Sleep well?" Sif asked upon the doors opening. Natasha hummed in response, still tired and disorientated. "I thought as much. I've been waiting outside your door for ages."

They walked together to a large room with high ceilings and elegant tapestries lining the walls. A long table ran through the centre of the room, with guests, noble men and other members of the court all sitting around it, piling their plates high with white bread and cold meats.

Natasha and Sif took their seats together by other Ladies in waiting, but not so far away from the other guests that she could not nod and greet Lord Barton as she sat down. She didn't get to sit for long, as a servant entered and announced the entrance of the prince Loki, and everyone was brought to their feet upon his arrival.

"Gods, what is he doing here?" Sif gasped her eyes narrowing as she watched him entering the room, greeting noblemen with his winning smile. "The royals always eat their breakfasts in their own chambers, or at least privately with each other."

"He looks happier than usual." Amora murmured from opposite them.

"Indeed, he looks far less cold and devious." Freya whispered in return.

Natasha smiled as she listened in to their conversation, feeling rather responsible for the prince's change in attitude.

Loki took his seat at the head of the table, surrounded by chattering courtiers and a considerable distance from her. The breakfast continued as it had been before Loki's arrival, save the blabbering noblemen who strived for Loki's approval. Natasha and Sif conversed together, planning another walk around the grounds later that day and discussing the possibility of another training session.

"We could go right away." Sif pondered aloud. "When we are done with breakfast."

"I have something I must do after this." Natasha informed her, avoiding the subject of the matter. "I am to visit Ivan, but it should not take long."

"After that perhaps." She mused. "You may find me in the gallery, and then we may go from there."

"Perfect." Natasha smiled.

A serving girl approached her, presenting her with a tray, upon which was a goblet of wine. "Wine for you, my lady?" She asked, her voice quiet and shy.

"Thank you, no." Natasha replied, hiding her confusion at why the girl was only bringing her the beverage. "I tend not to drink so early."

The girl hesitated and moved the tray lower so Natasha could see it more clearly. "My lady, it is very fine wine, I think you should try it."

Natasha frowned and looked to Sif who was deep in a conversation with Eir, completely unaware of the servant's unusual behaviour. For a moment, Natasha considered the possibility of the wine being poisonous, but as the girl subtly lowered the tray some more, Natasha spotted a small, folded up piece of parchment hidden beneath the goblets base and a quill by its side.

"Yes, of course." She nodded and smiled, taking the goblet and quickly snatching the letter and quill from the tray before anyone could see.

She waited until the serving girl had left and opened the letter under the table, hiding it on her lap.

_"If the lady would consent, it would be my great honour to accompany her on a tour of the grounds this morning._

_Loki"_

Natasha smiled, having expected the letter to be from Ivan or one of his confidants regarding his plans, she looked up to see Loki, he sat, bored, in his chair, enduring the blasé conversations with his fathers court members, there was no evidence of his enquiries in his appearance whatsoever. His gaze flickered from his plate to her and she quickly looked away.

She dipped the quill in her wine, making sure no on could see, and wrote her reply on the back of the parchment.

_"The prince is too forward, he forgets that the lady has daily duties in which she must attend before she can indulge in leisurely activities."_

The wine did not make for a good ink substitute, but it did the job. She hailed over the serving girl and slipped the quill and paper onto her tray as she pretended to ask for another goblet of wine.

She watched as the girl circled the room a number of times in order to make the interaction as subtle as possible, and Natasha withheld a small laugh at the way Loki watched the girl, drumming his fingers against the table impatiently. She turned her attentions to him away and back to Sif, easing her way into her conversation with Eir.

It didn't take long for the prince to reply, the serving girl returned, sliding the letter under Natasha's plate and leaving.

_"Apologies for being so impertinent._

_Would the lady be so kind as to apprise the king of when she will be done with her duties for the day."_

She smiled at the letter, it was written with wine, and that told her that the original letter had been written before Loki had come to breakfast, so he had come there for a purpose. She reread the message a few more times, enjoying it's playfulness. She had to admit, the secrecy of it all was thrilling. She quickly scribbled down her reply, keeping it as coy and aloof as possible so not to seem too eager.

_"With the many duties the prince's mother devises, it is difficult to determine when one will be free."_

She doesn't look at him when he receives the letter, though she wants to, it would be too obvious. The reply does not come as soon as she had expected, and for a moment she wondered if she had offended him in some way, but the serving girl returned, once again slipping the letter and quill down beside her plate and out of view.

The letter is messy this time, with a few sentences scribbled out at the top as if the prince could not make up his mind about how to reply, but there is a curt sentence at the bottom, it is different to the others, less formal, less playful, and more desperate.

_"Then when can I see you?"_

She couldn't hold back the grin that formed on her lips at the desperation laced in his words, and she looked up to see him staring back at her, unabashed by how indiscreet he was.

_"Noon, by the lavender and camomile."_

~X~

After excusing herself from Sif and Eir's company, Natasha made her way to Ivan's quarters. He answered his door promptly after she's finished knocking, and hastily ushered her inside. Fitch, Tyr and Kvasir were not there, which settled her nerves a little.

"Sit down, my child." Ivan smiled, shuffling to his seat beside the hearth. She took a seat on a large armchair beside the fire, watching as Ivan poured her a glass of wine. She noted how out of breath he was, just from answering the door, and it was the first time she's really took into account just how old he was. "I trust you have come here with your decision made."

"I have."

"And?"

"I accept." She said her words quietly, her chest aching slightly as they passed her lips.

"I am very proud of you, Natasha." Ivan replied, handing her a goblet of wine. She hated drinking so early, especially the Asgardian wine, but she supposed she needed the drink after what she'd gotten herself into. "We must begin planning your strategy immediately."

He looked far too excited over it all, and Natasha gulped her wine, wishing for it to numb her anxiety. Ivan started rambling on about ways in which to approach the matter, but they were all useless after her meeting with the prince than morning.

"He kissed me." She interjected, causing Ivan to freeze in his seat. "I saw him early this morning, and he kissed me. He has asked to see me later to day, and I have accepted."

"Very good, very good!" Ivan praised, grinning from ear to ear. "This is perfect, it's all falling into place exactly as we need it to- Oh, you _mustn't _seem to eager, make yourself difficult to obtain, it will only drive his desire. The fun is always in the chase."

"And once I have been 'obtained'?"

"You will continue to… pleasure him, until you are no longer needed."

"Very well." She murmured, sipping more wine. She was going to need it. "How long should I make him wait?"

"Not too long, else he'll grow tired of you." Ivan deliberated, staring into the fire as he considered. "Seeing as you and the prince have been close for some time, perhaps you may give him what he want when he asks for you, which should not be too far off, especially as he has required your presence for this afternoon."

"What do you mean?"

"He will make you an offer soon, and when he does, do not be too eager, nor too apathetic."

~X~

She left Ivan's quarters not long after, and he departed from her with an embrace and a wish of good luck. Natasha then made her way to the gallery, where she sat with Amora in silence as they worked on their needlework.

"What were you scribbling away at breakfast?" Amora inquired, breaking the silence.

"Oh, that." Natasha felt her heartbeat quicken, and wondered if Amora had seen any of the conversation. "Just some correspondence with my guardian, Ivan."

"Ivan wasn't there this morning." Amora grinned deviously, setting down her needlework and focusing her attentions of Natasha. "I know who it was you were writing to."

"And who would that be?" Natasha tried to keep her fear hidden. There would not be much of a consequence if she found out about a few meaningless letters, but it would make Natasha's mission a little more difficult.

"Lord Barton." Amora smirked proudly. "I saw how you spoke with him at the hunt, _and_ at the feasts."

"You've caught me." Natasha lied smoothly, allowing her cheeks to redden slightly to throw Amora off course completely.

"Look at you, you're smitten." The golden haired lady chuckled. "Don't worry, I'll keep your little admiration a secret, but you must remember that he will leave for Midgard in a few days time. So you best hurry and snatch him up before he leaves you forever."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Yes, you better stop wasting your time with swordplay and walking around the fields like some common farmers wife, and start presenting yourself as more of a lady. I would be happy to help you with such things, helping people find true love has always been an interest of mine."

"Thank you." Natasha smiled despite the fact that she would have no peace from the woman now that she felt she was included in her affairs.

She spent a few hours reading, occasionally looking out the window to see the sun moving higher into the sky and urging it to move faster so that she could go and meet Loki. Sif joined her after a while, and the both of them decided to go to the training grounds, ignoring the disapproving look from Amora.

"There is not much to do these days." Natasha observed as they walked down the halls.

"I know, it is because the guests are slowly leaving and so the palace grows less busy." Sif mused. "We will be returning to the way it once was before, peaceful."

"Thank the gods."

After a silence, Sif spoke up again. "What was Amora speaking to you about earlier?"

"She thinks I am in love with Lord Barton." Natasha laughed, and Sif's lips curled in amusement.

"Oh, that woman!" Sif laughed. "She cannot stay out of other peoples business, and always has to conspire some plan to bring people together. She fancies herself quite the matchmaker."

"Has she ever tried to meddle with your affairs?"

"She's scolded me for just _looking_ at prince Thor, thinking that I held some sort of infatuation to him, it was utterly ridiculous."

"Was it?" Natasha asked, cocking her eyebrow questioningly. Sif frowned at her, her mouth parted in an offended manner. "I'm just saying, you and Thor do seem rather… fond of each other."

"We have known each other since childhood!" Sif proclaimed, throwing her hands up like the subject was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard.

"No, it's more than that and you know it. The two of you are smitten, but you both will not admit it."

"The both of us?" Sif stopped in her tracks waiting for Natasha to elaborate.

"You don't see it?" Natasha asked, surprised. "The man turns to an enamoured little girl the moment he lays eyes on you!"

"You're mocking me." Sif growled, her eyes narrowing in frustration.

"I'm not mocking you, Sif. The next time you see him, just watch, and you'll notice how different he is around you." Sif relaxed a little at Natasha's words, but still looked rather unsure. "I'm afraid we will have to visit the training grounds some other time, it seems I must I have a duty that I must attend."

"You said you were free for the rest of the day."

"It is just this one thing, and then I may be able to meet you for a walk." She assured her friend, who looked a little disappointed.

"I'll probably be in the gallery, gods know that's the only place other than my room where I can get any peace, if Amora's not there any way."

Natasha smiled and left her. Watching as the sun shone at its peak in the sky, as she made her way to the gardens.

~X~

He was sitting beneath the apple tree, his back resting against the trunk and his legs crossed at the ankles. His attention was focused solely on the book in his hands, his brow's knit together as he read, and loose, wavy strands of black hair falling over his face. She approached him slowly from the side, not wanting to disturb him, mainly for her sake, for she found that the sight of him so deep in concentration was considerably charming.

She paused as he looked up at the sun, he sighed and looked back down at his book and Natasha let a smile ease it's way up her lips. He was evidently desperate to see her, and she wouldn't keep him waiting for too long.

"I do hope you haven't been waiting too long, my lord." She called to him as she sauntered over.

He lurched to his feet at the sight of her, dropping his book ungraciously in the process. He flashed her a crooked smile, seemingly unhindered by his clumsy greeting.

"Every minute has been torture." Loki closed the distance between them and cupped her face in his hand. "For a moment I thought my mother had stolen you away for more tasks, or that you had forgotten about me."

"I could not forget about you, Loki." Their lips met in another gentle kiss, and Loki rested his forehead against hers. "Now, I believe you wished to give me a tour of the grounds."

"Right… yes." He chuckled as he pulled away. "I didn't actually plan a tour, it was merely an excuse to see you."

"So then what do you propose we do?" She smiled, enjoying seeing him so flustered.

Loki paused for a moment, thinking it over. "I have an Idea." He reached for her wrist and pulled her away. "Come with me."

"Do I have a choice?" She laughed, letting him pull her speedily to his destination.

Loki broke into a run, slipping his hand from her wrist and into her hand and pulling her to run at his side. Natasha had to check behind her to see if they were being chased, but it seemed they were running for no reason at all. Loki was grinning from ear to ear with a certain boyish charm that she had not seen on him before, and her heart fluttered at the sight.

He lead her to a small clearing just outside of the palace grounds, under a canopy of tree's where the sunlight crept through the branches, giving the place a dim and warm ambience. The tree's seemed to lean together, their branches intertwining to create a large archway. It was beautiful. The place felt so detached from the rest of the kingdom, like they were hundreds of miles away from the hustle and bustle.

They stopped in the centre of the clearing, Natasha catching her breath as Loki looked around, a hint of sentiment on his smile.

"Sorry for the rush." Loki looked back at her apologetically. "I don't know how long we have together, so I didn't want to waste a minute."

"It's fine." She smiled, looking up at the trees and taking in their surroundings. "Where are we?"

"You like it?" Loki asked, gesturing around him.

"It's beautiful."

"My brother and I used to play here when we were boys. One would hide behind the trees whilst the other would seek him out, on rainy days we would have to make do with the pillars in the palace halls." Loki hummed in amusement at the memory, his gaze dropping to the floor. "We would come here more often than not."

"But no longer?"

"No, we are older now, and so now this place is forgotten. A mere home for decaying memories." Loki sighed, his eyes still watching the grass at his feet. "Memories from when I was a better man, a happier one."

Natasha couldn't help but feel uncomfortable, why would the prince bring her to a place that brought back past grievances?

"Do you think you could be that man again?" She inquired, her voice the only thing to be heard, save for the distant chirping of the birds in the tree's and the gentle wind. "A happier man?"

"Yes, I think I could be a happier man. With help." He replied, pointedly looking at her. She had to wonder if he knew of the king's plans for her to distract him. Was that why she was asked to do it? To make him happier? To distract him from his own thoughts? And she had to wonder also, _if_ she could do it. Would her companionship be enough?

He carefully stepped towards her, his hand tucking a stray curl behind her ear. She noticed how his gaze flickered to her lips, the want in his eyes. He leant into to kiss her again, but she ducked out of the way and stepped back. He stumbled forward slightly, out of balance and confused, and looked up at her, frowning in bewilderment.

She shifted on her feet, thinking of a way to make light of the awkward situation. "You want me? Come and claim me." And without thinking, she dashed from the spot.

Loki followed without hesitation, his confusion quickly replaced with excitement and amusement. She was so different from the many other women who had enticed him throughout the years. They had been like deer, the hunt had been easy and the kill only slightly satisfactory, but Natasha, she was like a firefly, so beautiful, so rare, slipping through ones fingers when they tried to catch her. He knew that with her, the kill would be just as thrilling as the chase.

He caught up with her, hidden behind a tree, breathless and watching him with a feral grin that made his knee's feel weak.

"Enough of this torture, Natasha." He groaned, resting his hand on the tree beside her and trapping her in place. "I _must_ have you."

Her grin faltered and she stiffened where she stood. Ivan's words rang out in her head.

_"If he truly cared for you in that way, if he respected you at all, he would deny you his bed"_

Loki didn't care for her it seemed, and she was a fool to think differently. She was nothing more than a past time, a toy for him to entertain himself with, distract himself. She would never be the one to make him happier, better, no matter how much she wished she could be.

_"It is a universal truth in men, lust will always prevail over love."_

"You must?"

"I cannot wait any longer." He purred, breath hot in her ear and making a pleasurable shiver run down her spine.

"Okay." She replied, her voice frail and small.

She felt him grin beside her cheek, his lips brushing over her skin. "Tonight, after you have aided my mother for sleep, come to my chamber. Do not waste a minute."

She nodded, and he captured her lips in another kiss. Loki stepped away, kissed her hand and left, leaving her weak at the knees and close to tears.


	7. Don't Be Afraid of What You Want

_**A/N:**__ Sorry again for the late post! I've been trying to find time to write, but i've just been SO busy! Anyways, this chapter was extremely difficult to write, but I'm rather pleased with the outcome. If you're not comfortable with smut, then I would suggest skipping the last scene, where Natasha goes to Loki's chambers._

_I hope you enjoy! And I promise that I'll try and get the next chapter up as soon as possible! :) xxx _

* * *

She'd been quiet all day, her mind busy with her imagination running amok. She just kept running possibilities around in her head, scenarios of what was to come. Sif had picked up on Natasha's anxiety, but had chosen to steer clear of the subject and tried to distract her altogether.

They went for a long walk around the grounds, Natasha was mostly silent, relishing in the peacefulness of the outdoors. It was safe to say that the silence made Sif uncomfortable, and she wished she could help Natasha with whatever was going on in her mind, but the woman was extraordinarily secretive about everything, there was no way into her head, unless it were cracked open with a rock, and Sif wished to avoid such a method as that.

Natasha, on the other hand, didn't seem to mind the prospect of a blow to the head, perhaps it would numb her mind enough to eradicate a few of her more vexing thoughts. A few times she contemplated the idea of purposely falling down, so she could be given the rest of the day to rest and avoid the looming encounter with the prince until a later date. Who knows, perhaps he would be kind, come sit at her bedside and wish her well again. But, as it was, Natasha was entirely unharmed, comprehensively healthy and well, much to her displeasure.

She hadn't seen Loki since the day prior, when he had begged for her, actually begged. She supposed she should feel flattered by his requests, that the prince of Asgard found her attractive enough and compelling enough to share his bed. But she was no pleasure house girl, she had always regarded herself as a respectable young lady, and it seemed she would no longer be able to regard herself as such.

No one would know, of course, except for a few. Fitch, Tyr and Kvasir had all been informed of the movement in their plan, and Natasha had thus far been rewarded with knowing looks and subtle pats on the back. She didn't know if Odin yet knew of the plan, and Natasha had to wonder if he could at all feel proud of himself. Some secrets are important to keep hidden, but to fool your son in such a way, it seemed the cruellest method to use. Loki was a proud man, should he find out that Natasha had only accepted him under orders… the outcome was unthinkable. He would assume the worst of course; he presumably would never assume that Natasha actually felt something towards him. That she cared for him. It was a useless plan. The prince was clever, he was perceptive, and when he would eventually discover the truth, the king's plan would dissolve unto lies, upon lies, upon lies.

So she had to wonder _why_ she was taking part. If she knew so well, just how flawed and cruel Odin's plan was, why would she give it any time of day? The answer lay in the feeling she received in her chest when she was around him. The soft fluttering, like there were small birds inside of her, urging to be set free. The way her legs felt as weak as twigs if he looked at her a certain way. Such peculiar feelings they were, yet so pleasurable, comforting and addictive. Though a large portion of her mind seized up with fear at the prospect of what was to come that evening, somewhere inside of her she felt almost intrigued, and dare she say it, excited.

They returned to the palace, after silently agreeing that it was time to go back. The day had been lazy, slow and boring. The sun beat down upon the kingdom, and the townspeople took refuge in taverns or the pleasure houses instead of working on the land. The courtyard was quiet, save for the clacking of their shoes as they walked back.

Sif let out a long, dreary sigh and stopped. Natasha almost didn't notice, and continued walking until Sif spoke up.

"You've been distant and reserved all day." She stated, her expression was one of annoyance. "Have I done something wrong?"

"Not at all." Natasha muttered, not exactly finding the energy to speak more boldly.

"Then what is it? I thought we could confide in one another, but you're always so secretive."

"I'm just tired, that is all."

"No it's not." Sif frowned, proceeding to walk up the steps towards the entrance, having had enough of their conversation. Gods know she had tried to coax some sort of conversation out of Natasha, but the lady was far too withdrawn, and Sif had had enough.

"I'm just a little homesick, I suppose." Natasha called after her friend. "And you can always confide in me, Sif."

"But you cannot confide in _me_?"

"Of course I can, and I will." Natasha smiled apologetically, stepping closer to Sif so she didn't have to crane her neck to speak with her. "Be patient."

"I only want to know what bothers you, so that I may help. I feel useless, just watching you worry and never knowing what for." Natasha smiled even wider, a feeling of pure elation washed over her. She had never had a friend such as Sif, she was loyal, kind and truthful, and probably one of the most genuine members of the court that Natasha had met thus far. "Why are you smiling? I'm angry at you, stop smiling."

"Thank you, Sif." Natasha laughed, and pulled her friend in for an embrace. Sif stayed rigid in her grasp for a moment, too confused to respond appropriately, but she soon relaxed and embraced Natasha in return.

~X~

It didn't surprise Natasha much that Ivan had not ceased his smiling since she told him of Loki's request. He had ushered her into his chambers, sat her down in his most comfortable chair and rewarded her with a goblet of wine.

"So, what did he say?"

"Really, Ivan, I would rather not dwell on it." She muttered, lifting her goblet to her lips to take a sip.

"I must know the details." He declared sternly, giving her a look that told her to cooperate. "It is not for my amusement, but when the king asks, he must know exactly what transpired between the two of you."

"Why?" Natasha questioned, her expression one of bemusement. "Surely all he has to know is that his son is sated and distracted."

"You still don't get it." Ivan sighed, rubbing his large hand over his face exasperatedly. "He must know to what extent his son is distracted. To know that there is no possibility that his son will tire of you, it would give him great peace of mind."

Natasha moved forward in her chair, leaning closer to Ivan. "What is it that the king so desperately wishes to keep from his son?"

"Nothing of importance." Ivan replied sharply. Natasha laughed at that, leaning back into her chair and glaring at the man across from her.

"I don't believe that." She sneered. "If it were not important, then why would the king go to such great lengths to cover it up?"

"Nothing of importance to _you_. In fact, the less you know, the better. We can't risk you telling the prince anything he shouldn't know."

"What happens when he does find out?"

"He won't." Ivan drawled, his rising temper was visible by the way his body tensed. She knew the signs of his anger, all too well, and whenever she detected its flares, she would always be quick to silence herself, lest she be faced with the consequences, but this time she wasn't backing down. She sat up straight, glaring at him defiantly. "I thought you had agreed to help us, that you were on the kings side."

"I am on no ones side, but yes, I will help. It doesn't mean that the kings plans won't fail."

"You really have grown in these past few days, Natasha." Ivan mused. "You are no longer the feeble young woman you once were."

"I was never a feeble young woman." She snapped. Her knuckles going white where she held her goblet. "Perhaps I am only just recognising you for who you really are."

"And what is that?" The man asked, as he gripped the arms of his chair, his fingers digging into the leather. A few days ago, Natasha would have noticed his anger reaching it's peak and she would have fled, maybe she had been feeble, at least that was what it felt like compared with how she felt now, stronger.

She calmly placed her goblet onto the small side table between them, and stood, towering over the man she had once looked upon with great admiration.

"You are a foolish old man, all you care about is power and nothing else. You will do anything, degrade yourself just for a drop of authority. I marvel at how my parents thought you capable enough to raise a young woman."

"Clearly I didn't, clearly I raised a savage, ungrateful, little girl!" Ivan stood, his wide belly knocking over the side table, smashing goblets and plates in the process. Wine spilled into puddles on the stone floor, staining the bottom of Natasha's gown with deep red.

Natasha gave Ivan one last withering look before heading for the door, she knew it was best to leave, seething as she was, she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her anger make her the savage that he supposedly thought her to be.

"Is that it, then?" Ivan called after her before she could leave the room. "You will give up on your kingdom, and you will not help?"

"I never said that." She replied slowly, using all her control to keep herself from shouting. They didn't want the wrong person to hear their conversation. "Unfortunately, the prince has already made his request, it is too late to refuse him. But I'm not doing it for you, or the king. I'm doing it for Loki, so that whatever his father is keeping from his will never hurt him. I should know the pain that lies may cause, I've dealt with it myself."

~X~

Loki kept his distance from Natasha at the feast that evening, he felt it would be best to give her space, seeing as there would be little of it later that evening. But he still watched her, the way she moved through the crowds of guests as if they were all her lesser. They were, but she didn't know that. To Loki, Natasha was the most important woman in the room. He ignored how the nearby maidens glanced at him with hooded eyes and sultry gazes, it was only she that he wanted.

Never had anything like this happened to him, never had lust gripped him so tightly and caused every other one of his thoughts to fade into meaningless blurs. She had crept up on him, surprised him in a way that he never thought possible. Loki had been with many women before, but the mere thought of her in his bed was enough to drive him crazy.

He recalled the words of his father, when Loki and his brother were mere boys. They had been hunting, Odin had knelt down beside their kill, feeling for a pulse before looking back up at his sons.

"The best fun is always in the hunt, but we must make sure that we may entertain ourselves as much as we can afterwards." He had said, gesturing for the servants to carry the animal away. "That is why the animal will be served at the feast tonight, so it may give us fulfilment, even when it is dead."

Loki had no plans on killing Natasha, of course, but he knew that even after that evening, he could never grow tired of having her in his bed, or by his side.

She was much more than just some tavern girl, or a whore in a pleasure house, she was Natasha Romanov, the woman who perplexed him upon their first meeting. He had always considered his mothers ladies in waiting to be selfish and vain, so it had been very surprising for him to discover that Natasha was none of those things, and in fact he regarded her as one of the most intelligent women at court.

He sipped his wine, watching her dance with Lord Rogers, and desperately trying to fight the impatience that was building inside of him.

~X~

"I shall be grieved to see you leave, Lord Banner." Amora told the dark haired man, accepting one of the drinks that he offered to her and Natasha. "Will the rest of your party be leaving for York with you?"

"I should think so." Banner answered quietly. Natasha had always appreciated that Lord Bruce Banner had certain gentleness about him. He was not vulgar, like so many men she had encountered, and her seemed to steer clear of the pleasure houses that his companions seemed to visit most nights. He was a gentleman, although, so were many of Thor's guests. "However, I should think that Barton may not be returning with us, is that not right?"

He turned to Clint Barton, who approached the three of them after having danced twice with Freya. He smiled, looking rather exhausted, and only just realising that Banner had been addressing him.

"I do hope my friend has not been boring you, ladies." He grinned.

"Lord Banner, here, was just informing us that you might not be returning to York." Natasha chuckled. She took a sip of her wine, and her gaze moved to were Loki sat, watching her from his table. She swallowed thickly and returned her focus to the blonde beside her.

"Ah, yes, I have business to attend to in the south, Midgard to be exact. King Fury has asked for my presence."

"Natasha grew up in Midgard." Amora interjected, sending Natasha a barely subtle wink. "Perhaps your presence there shall give her a reason to return."

Natasha felt her face go hot, and her gaze found the floor. Amora was not subtle at all, and how she managed to find herself with the reputation of a 'matchmaker' was beyond Natasha completely.

"I should hope so." Clint grinned at her. "Though, my business with Fury should be short, and I have planned on making my return here on my journey back to York."

"We shall eagerly await your return." Amora replied, smiling with her usual charm. She turned her attention to Natasha, giving her an excited look, and it was all Natasha could do not to roll her eyes and sigh.

~X~

Frigga kept quiet that evening, as Natasha carefully plaited her hair. The red head looked to the mirror in which Frigga sat before, finding the queen glancing at her with a saddened expression. She would look away quickly afterwards, glancing at her nails as if nothing was wrong. After several of such encounters having passed, Natasha thought it appropriate to confront her queen.

"Your grace, is something the matter?"

Frigga paused, and looked up at Natasha with a gentle smile. "Not at all my dear, I am perfectly well."

"You seem troubled."

"It is nothing."

"I didn't see you at the festivities this evening." Natasha added, resorting to coaxing whatever was vexing the queen out of her.

"Yes, I was not in the mood for such things." Frigga frowned at her feet, and it became obvious that she was avoiding Natasha's gaze.

"My lady." Natasha sighed, moving to kneel at Frigga's side. "I have often been told that it unwise to sleep on a bad temper. Whatever it is that troubles you, you can tell me."

Frigga sighed, looking down at Natasha and cupped her face with her hand. "Oh, my child." She breathed sadly. "You would not want to hear what is on my mind."

"If it were to help you, then I wouldn't mind."

"You are so young, Natasha. So innocent." The queen stroked her thumb over Natasha's cheek lovingly, and in turn, Natasha leant into the touch. Though she had not spent much time in Asgard, and beside the queen, she had grown to love her with every moment she spent preparing her for bed, or reading with her in the afternoons. She wondered if that was what it was like to have a mother, someone who cared for you, who loved you for who you were.

"My lady, I beg you. Pass some of your grievances over to me, relieve yourself of your worries. Sometimes talking about it may make it better."

Frigga sighed and fiddled with the lace on her robe before looking Natasha in the eyes with a look of sadness and guilt. "I had always wished for the families of Romanov and Odinson to join together, but not like this."

Natasha stared back at her queen, her lips parted and her eyes wide. Whatever she planned to say in response seemed to catch in her throat, and all thoughts escaped her.

_'She knows.'_

"Look at you." Frigga said finally, her voice breaking. "You hardly know what to think, how frightened you must be."

"I am not frightened." Natasha managed to respond, her words coming out a little more defensively that she intended. "I know what I must do is for the realm."

"For the realm." Frigga repeated, chuckling mirthlessly at the words and shaking her head. "I think not." She paused, looking at her reflection in the mirror sadly before looking back at Natasha. "That is all for this evening, Natasha. You may leave."

"My lady, I-"

"Please." Frigga interrupted, her eyes glazed over with what seemed like tears, but Natasha did not get enough of a chance to find out. Frigga turned away on her chair, and Natasha stood. "I will not hear of this any more, leave, Natasha."

"Goodnight, Your grace." She said quietly, curtsying and heading for the door. She heard a sniff from behind her and a quiet rustling as the queen stood. Her heart ached as she closed the doors behind her, she felt mortified that the queen knew, how she must despise Natasha for deceiving her son, how she must have lost so much respect for her.

She wiped away the beginnings of tears from her eyes, shaking her head as if to shake the thoughts out of it. She knew she had to get used to such things, for the queens respect for her was only the first of many things that she would lose whilst she went through with the king's plan.

~X~

Loki answered the door to his chambers himself, a relieved smile stretching across his lips. "You're later than I expected." Natasha looked around the halls cautiously, fearing that someone would see them. She had dressed in a dark red cloak, the hood draped over her head so to hide her features from passers by. She looked back at Loki, who was still smiling at her, and pointedly looked over his shoulder and into his chambers. Confusion flashed over his features, ever so briefly, before he took her hand and pulled her inside. "Apologies, I hope no one saw you."

"I made sure that they didn't." Natasha smiled, removing her hood.

She looked away from the prince and around his rooms instead. They were stood in a small entryway, with a small table, upon which was a vase of flowers. Natasha smiled as she noticed sprigs of lavender within them. There were large archways either side of the entryway, one leading to what looked like a study, and the other to a larger room, and Natasha presumed it was the bedroom.

Loki took her hand again and led her into the bedroom. It was not quite so extravagant as his mother's room, it wasn't a woman's room, a queen's room, but a princes. The room was laden with rich greens, and gold's. In the corner, by the window, there is a table, upon which are platters of rich, Asgardian delicacies, and jugs of wine. The bed, a colossal thing with four posters, was draped in green silk, and surrounded by candles. She gave him a look, and Loki smiled modestly. "You were late, I had a lot of time on my hands." He explained, and Natasha stifled a laugh.

"It's beautiful." She grinned, and all at once she felt as though her uncertainty about the whole event was slipping away, her nerves melting from the flames of the candles. Surely, if he put so much effort into making his chambers looking so beautiful, he must feel something towards her.

"Here." He reached out and took her cloak, sliding it gently off her shoulders. "Wine?"

"No, thank you."

"Can I get you anything else?"

"I'm rather sated from the feast."

"Of course." Loki chuckled as he placed her cloak on a chair by the side of the room and slowly walked back to her. "Was my mother well when you saw her?"

Natasha paused, not knowing how to answer his question. Frigga had not seemed well at all, but surely telling Loki such a thing would dampen the mood, and Natasha was just starting to enjoy herself.

"She was tired, but yes, she seemed well." She stepped closer to him, her neck craning to keep her gaze on his eyes, which were strangely beautiful in the candlelight. "Did you invite me here to talk about your mother?" She asks, her voice changing to a low and sultry tone she never knew she had.

"Of course not." Loki grinned charmingly, moving a hand to cup the side of her face as he leant down to meet his lips to hers. What started out as a soft gentle kiss quickly turned libidinous and hot. The only sounds in the room were the crackling of the fire in the stone hearth, and their heavy breathing against ones skin.

With nimble fingers, Loki managed to undo the laces of her corset, she had hardly realised what he was doing until the corset was lying by her feet. The prince pressed kisses to her neck, working his way down to her shoulders where he slid off her dress, biting at her soft skin and evoking a soft, sweet moan to escape her.

She was completely bare skinned, standing in a puddle of clothes in front of the prince of Asgard. Her heart was pounding against her chest, her breathing ragged and pupils blown wide. It had all been leading up to that moment, every second that they had spend in each other's company, and this was it.

Loki looked down at her, eyes lidded as he slowly licked his lips, reddened they were from their kisses. "Bed." He managed to croak out, and he watched as she gracefully moved to the bed, hips swaying seductively on their own accord. She had to know what she was doing to him, what she had been doing to him since they had first laid eyes on each other.

He stepped slowly towards where she sat on his bed, removing his clothes and letting them fall into a pile on his floor. Natasha simply watched as he crawled over her, slowly, sensuously, kissing every part of her skin he could gain access to. His hands palmed her breasts as hers raked through his black locks. He moaned as she tugged on his hairs, teeth biting down on her nipple and her back arched involuntarily against him.

She could feel his cock, hard and rubbing against the inside of her thigh, the feeling sent warmth down to her core, a steady pulse, thrumming with need.

"Loki." She moaned, the feeling of him sucking on her tender flesh was enough to rid her of any rational thought. "I need you."

He hummed against her skin, lithe fingers trailing down to her core. He slipped one finger into her, his thumb massaging her clit, and Natasha let out a soft whine of pleasure.

His lips trailed down to where his fingers slipped out of her, his tongue moving to where they had once been. Natasha slid her fingers through his hair, holding him where he was and wishing for him never to stop. Her hips bucked, and she let out a long cry of ecstasy as she came to her climax. Her cheeks were flushed and her breathing ragged, she bit down on her fist to ensure she made no more sound, lest someone discover them.

"Don't worry." Loki purred, crawling closer to her, his lips forming a devilish smirk and slick with her arousal. "It's not unusual to hear such noises coming from my chambers."

He paused, thinking it was probably not the best thing to say to her, but instead of reacting the way he had expected, she looped an arm around his neck to pull his lips to hers in a lascivious kiss. "I'm not surprised." She whispered against his lips, tasting herself on his tongue. She pushed his side, rolling him onto his back and her on top of him. He watched her with wide eyes as she slowly sunk down onto his cock, and he bit his lip to stifle a cry of pleasure, she felt so perfect around him, better than anything he had ever experienced.

Natasha let out a coarse cry of both pain and pleasure as Loki slowly entered her, stretching her out, and she slowly rocked her hips back and forth, her hands resting on Loki's chest for balance. The feel of him was sending shocks through her body, her knee's feeling weak. As if sensing this, Loki speedily flipped her over onto her back, lifting her thighs to curl around his waist as he positioned himself in front of her entrance once more. He slammed into her, his thrusts deep and quick in carnal desire. Natasha moaned in rapture as Loki licked and sucked at the tender skin of her neck, and holding her arms above her head so tightly, she was sure they would bruise.

The more he would thrust into her, the more Natasha's pleasure built, stronger and stronger, such a new and unusual sensation, yet possibly the most exhilarating thing she had ever felt. Loki's thumb worked tirelessly against her clit as he thrust into her again and again. It was too much, and soon the pleasure of it all seemed to overwhelm her, she tightened around him, and cried out, stars forming behind her eyelids as she screamed in euphoria. Loki soon followed suit, crying out her name as he spilled inside of her, and the two of them were left holding one another, slick with sweat and panting.

"My Natasha." He hummed, wiping a few strands of hair away from her face as he hovered over her. "Mine."

He fell back down to the bed beside her, a strong arm looping around her waist and pulling her flush against him. She nuzzled her head in the crook of his neck and entwined her legs with his.

Despite the gentle tickling of Loki's breath against her skin, Natasha fell into one of the most peaceful slumbers she had had since her arrival at the kingdom of Asgard.


	8. Rise To The Sun

**_A/N: _**_Hey guys! Sorry for the delay in posting, AGAIN! I got some bad news on Friday, and kind of lost my motivation for writing and other things, so I apologise if you've been waiting. The next few weeks are going to be pretty busy for me, what with auditions, overtime, and other things, so I'll try to get the next chapter out as soon as I can (I realise I said that last time, and look where we are...) but I can't promise it will be that soon. I'm sorry!_

_But I hope you enjoy this chapter! Blood sweat and tears went into writing this thing..._

_xxx_

~X~

Natasha woke slowly, her eyes fluttering open and being greeted by a pair of shining green irises. Loki smiled softly, his arm was wrapped possessively around her waist, clutching her tight against his chest, and his forehead rested against hers. Natasha hummed in contentment, shifting closer to the prince beside her.

Loki reached up his hand and stroked the back of his index finger against her cheek; it was a feather light touch, so gentle, as if he feared she would break under his caress. She noted the apologetic look on his features with some confusion, had he any regret for what they had done?

"Did it hurt?" He inquired, his voice soft. Natasha smiled, his concern was endearing.

"Do not think on it." Natasha replied. She cupped his face in her hands, brushing stray hairs from his eyes. "It is not important."

"Of course it is." Loki countered, his brows furrowed together in bewilderment. "Oh, Natasha, you are so kind, you rarely think of yourself before anyone else."

"It was… very pleasurable." She answered, chuckling somewhat at the awkwardness of their conversation. "I would prefer to remember that, rather than the pain."

Loki grinned, pulling her closer and planting a deep kiss on her lips. "I have called for a bath to be prepared, and breakfast to be brought up for us."

"You needn't trouble your servants."

"It is no trouble." Loki laughed, pressing another kiss to her neck, the feeling was so sensual, Natasha had difficulty comprehending his words. "I requested this of them last night in advance, a bath should help alleviate the pain."

"Then I insist they do not trouble themselves with breakfast." Natasha said seriously, pushing Loki away from her slightly so to look into is eyes. "I am capable of dining in the hall with everyone else."

Loki laughed and Natasha gazed back at him, abashed. "If you can walk down to breakfast, then go as you please."

"What do you mean?"

"Try and walk."

Natasha glared at him, pulling the silk sheets with her as she rose from the bed and prepared to stand. The stone floor was cold beneath the soles of her feet, and she hesitated before putting all of her weight on them. She glanced at the prince behind her who nodded encouragingly, and stood. Her knee's wobbled, but she managed to keep upright, and she gave Loki a boastful look over her shoulder.

"Hmm, much better than expected." Loki mused, a sly grin dancing on his lips. "Perhaps I didn't do it properly. " he chuckled and rose from the bed, uncovered and unashamed by his bareness. He walked slowly over to her, prowling around the bed like a predator.

"Oh really?" Natasha smirked, appreciating his form as he approached her, and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him.

"Indeed." He muttered, feigning seriousness. "In fact, we may have to do it again, and again, and again." He drawled, pressing his lips against her collarbone with each pause.

His lips crashed against hers in a libidinous frenzy, his hand's crawling over her skin, clutching her tightly in everyplace he touched. Natasha yielded to his touch, her own hands losing their grip on the green silk sheets around her, and letting them fall to her feet. He took her again on the bed, with her moaning and writhing beneath his touch, until they both exploded with a myriad of cry's as they reached their peak.

They lay together afterwards for some time, the sunlight pouring through the windows and draping them with a soft, orange glow. Natasha lay on her front, resting her head on its side on her arms, and watching Loki beside her as he drew patters on her back with his fingertips. No words were spoken for a while, instead they were content to lay in silence, with nothing but the sound of their own breath and the distant chirping of birds in the trees outside.

After a few moments the servants arrived to prepare the bath and deliver their breakfast. Loki wrapped Natasha in the silk sheets and carried her to his study, after it became apparent that it was indeed very difficult to walk, and kept her from sight whilst the servants did their work.

"What are you thinking?" Natasha asked as she sat on Loki's desk in his study. He stood in front of her, hands on her waist and forehead resting against hers as he smiled.

"Nothing." He chuckled. "I'm just happy."

His words caused pleasant feeling to flutter in Natasha's stomach, and a wide grin stretch her lips. She recalled how that afternoon in the clearing, under the canopy of trees, Loki had told her he wished to be a happier man, and how he thought he could be with help from her. She had succeeded it seemed.

The servant's left after a few moments, Loki had entertained Natasha with the old maps and drawing he had scattered upon his desk, and when they had heard the soft thud of the door closing, Loki had scooped Natasha into his arms and carried her to the bath.

The water was steaming hot, warming her muscles as she slipped into the tub. Loki followed suit, sitting opposite her and handing her a goblet of wine. The room was filled with sweet and spiced aromas, it was the most pleasant bath Natasha had ever experienced. She shifted towards the prince, seating herself astride him and pressing kisses to his neck. He moaned in satisfaction, already growing hard beneath her. She slowly lowered herself down onto his length, her breath caught in her throat as he stretched her open.

"This will do nothing to help the pain." Loki breathed, his words almost incoherent as he gasped at the sensation of filling her.

"Who cares?" She grinned wildly, capturing Loki's lips in a lascivious kiss.

He moaned against her lips, his hips bucking up on their own accord to meet her thrusts. She was truly an unprecedented and magnificent creature, never had he come across anyone so unique.

He spilled inside her with a coarse cry of ecstasy, and Natasha followed shortly afterwards, her back arching as she threw her head backwards, arms clutching Loki's shoulders so tightly, he hardly expected her to have so much strength.

They spent the rest of the morning together, Loki's chambers became their own little world with no interruptions, secluded from the rest of the palace. If it were not for her duties with the queen or Loki's responsibilities of being a prince, they most probably would have spent the entire day in each other's company. As it was, they departed from each other with some hesitation. Loki made sure Natasha was able to walk, and she was, though with some difficulty, and promised to see her later that day.

~X~

Natasha hesitated before rapping her knuckles on the large wooden door. She regretted leaving Loki's chamber, after stepping out into the cold empty halls, it seemed as if she had spent the night in another world, somewhere far away from the Asgardian palace. All thoughts of politics and Ladies in Waiting were set aside the moment Loki had captured her lips with his. Now she stood, alone in a long corridor, waiting for the resident of the chamber to open his door.

Tyr opened his door with a disgruntled look upon his features, yet, upon seeing Natasha standing in the doorway he quickly turned his scowl into a smirk. "Well, I trust it went well."

He was a large man, red faced and usually sweating through his tunic, with black wiry hair and bead that concealed rounded face. His swollen belly was the largest in all the court, and he prided himself in it, strangely enough. He wore very little upon greeting her at the door, only a thin muslin tunic could be detected underneath an elaborately embroidered night robe.

"May I come in?" Natasha inquired, keeping her voice firm so that the question sounded more like a demand than anything else. His eyes widened slightly at her request, but as her glare remained persistent, he opened the door wider, allowing her entrance.

"By all means." He huffed, walking back to his study, leaving Natasha to close the door behind her. A tall woman, dressed in a sleek, and somewhat translucent rose coloured dress walked from the bedroom, looking from Natasha to Tyr with a questioning look. "Ahh, I almost forgot." Tyr chuckled, reaching into the pocket of his robe and extracting three large gold coins and placing them into the woman's palm.

"You only owed me two." The woman murmured, inspecting the gold in her hand suspiciously. She had a strong accent, likely from somewhere exotic, which made sense, considering her dark skin and thick black hair. She was beautiful.

"Tell no one." Tyr replied, pointedly looking at the redhead in his chambers. The stranger smiled and nodded, turning to leave. Tyr chuckled, watching her go. He looked back to Natasha, pointing after the woman. "That's Eshé, one of the best down at Lord Freyr's pleasure house." Natasha looked at him, bemused. Tyr merely chuckled and waddled back into his study. "You'd better get used to seeing things like that, girl, Asgard is not as innocent as you may have thought."

He seated himself down behind his desk, puffing out a breath of air once he had made himself comfortable. He gestured for Natasha to sit and she did, somewhat awkwardly as she was still thrown off by the woman she had encountered, and how openly Tyr spoke to her about her. "I wish to consort with you about this task with the prince, instead of Ivan."

"I see." Tyr replied, his brow furrowing in confusion. "He did tell me that the two of you had a disagreement, yet I would have thought I would be the last person you wished to turn to. I was hardly pleasant the first time we spoke."

"That is why I have come to you, you didn't try to placate me with false friendship."

"Clever girl." Tyr smirked. Natasha ground her teeth together, hating the way he called her 'girl'. "So is that why you have come? Or is there something more?"

"Did you know that Frigga had been told about this?" She asked, her voice quiet as she mentioned the sensitive subject. The thought of the queen judging her cut like a knife.

"Ah, well, that was not planned, but it seems Odin wished to tell her." Tyr sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "She will allow you to continue as one of her ladies, regardless."

"She must think me a whore." Natasha murmured, ignoring how Tyr shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Do not use such vulgar language." He muttered bitterly. "She knows of your situation, therefore, she knows you only do this for the good of the realm."

"Lord Kvasir mentioned a husband would be found for me." Natasha said, changing the subject from one that pained her to think about. "That is another reason that I have come."

"Yes, we have already arranged for you to marry someone, though he is not needed at this present time. I suppose the marriage shall take place when Loki no longer has need of you."

"Is he of noble birth?" She questioned. She didn't need to know who he was, she didn't care, as long as this man could provide for her. She didn't plan on returning to the time when she and Ivan had to scrounge for money to pay the landlord.

"There is no need to worry about this now, for the meantime we just need you to focus on Loki."

Natasha departed shortly afterwards, her mind buzzing with thoughts of this supposed husband. But what really stuck on her mind was Tyr's words '_I suppose the marriage shall take place when Loki no longer has need of you.'_

The idea of Loki casting her aside like an old toy stung her more than she cared to admit. Tyr seemed quite certain that that would come to pass, though Natasha recalled how gentle Loki had been in their time together, and surely if he cared enough to prepare candles, a bath and breakfast, he cared enough to not dispose of her when another lady came into his life.

~X~

"I didn't see you at breakfast." Sif murmured, her head down and focusing on her point work, much to Natasha's surprise. Sif detested such dreary and tedious pastimes, so to see her to intent on her work was curious.

"That is because I was not at breakfast this morning." Natasha responded with a sigh. She knew what Sif was getting at, and why she didn't go on a say what was on her mind was infuriating.

"Yes I am well aware." Sif snapped. Her finger and thumb pressed tightly against her needle in aggravation. "Where were you?"

Natasha looked around the gallery, Frigga sat in an armchair opposite her, glancing up at Natasha every so often with a grieved look upon her features. Amora sat by her side, reading her correspondence, though she pronounced certain words very ill, and Natasha often heard Frigga sighing and correcting her.

"I was unwell, I called for breakfast to be brought up to my chamber." This caught Frigga's attention, and the queen pursed her lips, fiddling with her hands distractedly.

"I was knocking on your door for some time." Sif countered, and Natasha could hear the irritation in her tone.

"I must have been sleeping." Natasha feigned amusement, chuckling to herself in attempt to brush off the awkwardness. Sif was less than pleased with her response, however.

"These past few day's you have been so secretive, I hardly see you, and when I do you are most certainly keeping something from me."

"Must we speak of this now?"

"Well, I don't know when I shall see you next, seeing as you are so busy these days." The dark haired woman muttered, bowing her head again and retreating to her work.

"Oh, Sif, you are so naïve." Amora chimed, folding Frigga's letters and placing them into a pile by her side. "Our Natasha is in love, this is why she is so changed."

"Amora, no one cares for your pathetic little matchmaking games." Sif retorted, retrieving an offended look from the blonde opposite her.

"Girls, hush." Frigga interjected, her voice tense and her gaze flickered towards Natasha briefly. Each look felt like a dagger in Natasha's side. "Continue with your work, and we shall hear no more of this prattle."

The room silenced and the ladies were left to continue their work, with Amora casting disdainful glances at Sif every so often, and Sif avoiding Natasha's gaze behind the shield of her needlework. The whole situation was awkward, and Natasha was beginning to realise how quickly she would lose those precious to her from this task she had accepted. She wanted to return to Loki's side, where it felt safe, reassuring yet exciting. Instead she had to endure the endless hours of silence, with a woman who never ceased to prod her nose into her business, a friend who refused to meet her gaze and a queen who most probably detested her for what she was doing to her son.

From time to time she glanced towards the large double doors at the end of the gallery, willing Loki or someone to enter and steal her away from the tiresome duties of a lady in waiting.

After a little while Amora spoke up again, though her voice was softer, more quiet as she whispered to Natasha. "Will you be bidding farewell to Prince Thor's guests this afternoon?"

"Of course, why?"

"Well, it I should hope so. It will be the last time you see Lord Barton, and you really should have stolen him while you had the chance."

"Stolen him?"

"Now he is going back to Midgard, and you will not see him for weeks, perhaps even months." Amora continued, ignoring Natasha's protests. "You hardly tried, I think."

Natasha sighed, unable to grace Amora with an answer, instead she returned to her work, cutting off the conversation entirely. Frigga left some time afterwards, smiling as she excused herself from the gallery, and Natasha was surprised that a smile was even sent her way.

As the doors closed behind Frigga, Freya who had moved over to them in order to join their conversations took the queen's chair.

"I heard that Prince Loki had a whore in his room last night." Freya grinned excitedly at the gossip, and she had already successfully drawn Amora in. "Apparently he requested two platters of breakfast to be sent to his chamber, and a bath to be prepared."

"Lucky girl." Amora hummed in amusement, working on her sewing at she listened to what Freya had to say.

"It is not so irregular for Loki to bed a pleasure girl, surely." Sif remarked, her interest peaked, and she forgot all animosity between her and Amora.

"Well, I was sure that the men all do such things in the pleasure house, and not bring their business to the halls of Asgard, it is quite disrespectful." Freya responded. "It was kind of him to draw her a bath, I suppose, she would need it after he was done with her."

"What do you mean?" Natasha questioned. Despite telling herself not to get involved in such a conversation, she couldn't help herself.

"Well, it is no secret that the price may be rather… how should I put it, boisterous in the bedroom." Amora giggled beside Freya as if they were both in on some sort of scandalous joke.

"He hurts them." Sif finished for Freya, phrasing the words more carefully, though far more harshly. "It is no secret that the girls return to the pleasure house covered in bruises and golden coins slipping through their fingers. I suppose he pays them well enough for what he does to them."

"Surely these are mere rumours." Natasha protested, remembering how gentle Loki had been with her perhaps at times he had been quite a bit more libidinous than before, but she was perfectly unharmed. She couldn't decide if it were a good thing or not.

"You ask the girls at the pleasure houses." Sif sniggered coldly. "See for yourself."

~X~

The courtyard was bustling with the bodies of guests, noblemen and ladies, all collected in the space to bid farewell to Prince Thor's Honoured guests. Natasha stood at the bottom of the stone steps that led up to the doors of the palace. At the top of the steps stood the royal family, standing proud above everyone else. Thor and Loki both made their way down the steps to meet their comrades by their horses.

Each guest moved around the courtyard bidding farewell to those they had become acquainted with over their short time visiting. Natasha curtsied and smiled to all who said goodbye to her. Lord Stark departed with a sly wink and a smirk, Banner clutched her hand affectionately and said, 'until I see you again,' which made Natasha smile at the prospect of getting to know the man better in the future. Lord Rogers gave a bow and a curt kiss to her hand, telling her of how much he wished to see her again. Lord Barton was last, placing a kiss on her hand and promising her he would return soon. He stayed with her a little longer than the other guests had, keeping a lengthy conversation going with her until he was called to his horse. He kissed her hand for a second time and turned to leave.

Amora nudged Natasha in the side, presenting her with a devious grin. "There is still hope for you yet." She whispered excitedly. Natasha rolled her eyes and caught sight of Loki standing nearby. He glared at Lord Barton with ire, his gaze finding hers and his jaw tightened, yet his focus lingered on her, and Natasha could detect the slightest hint of jealousy merged with desire. She could work with that.

The guests departed in a large procession, riding their horses through the city of Asgard until they were unable to be seen from such a distance. Natasha wished them well on their journeys, and despite the prospect of a more peaceful environment now they were gone, she rather hoped that they would return. There was no denying that they had been great company, with thrilling stories to tell.

~X~

Natasha wondered through the halls alone, already there was a considerable difference in the palace's atmosphere now the guests had all departed. The city had fallen into a peaceful lull, servants walked through the halls looking far less stressed and busy, taverns were far less rowdy, and the courtyard was empty, save a few horsemen riding in and out of the city.

She pondered how much had changed in the short time of the guests' stay. How much Natasha had changed. Though, the latter could be caused by her experience with the prince. She recalled how quiet, how frightened she had been the day prior, but now she found herself with unusual confidence. Suddenly the whole idea of 'distracting' the prince became more appealing and exciting. Nothing could make her deny how amazing it had felt to share his bed, it had been the most extraordinary sensation, and one she didn't wish to give up so soon.

She understood the risk she was taking. She had heard of Loki's roughness, and truthfully she feared what he would do if he ever discovered her lies, but at the same time she couldn't shake the sensation that he felt something for her, something more than just lust.

When she reached the doors to the library, she didn't bother to knock. She knew he was in there, and she knew he would not object to her entrance. She found him by the hearth, sitting behind a large oaken desk that was covered with papers and documents. He hardly noticed her standing there, he was so deep in concentration, it wasn't until she cleared her throat that he looked up at her. Loki's expression remained placid as he scrutinised her, and it was all Natasha could do not to worry that something was wrong.

"You should have knocked." Loki sighed, rubbing his hand over his face tiredly. Natasha's heart sunk at his cold words. Had he finished with her already?

"I wouldn't have thought you would mind, you never have before."

Loki sighed, pushing away from the desk and leaning back on his chair. "Come here." He said gently, gesturing for Natasha to come closer. She walked slowly towards him, and he pulled her down to sit on his lap. "There is nothing between Lord Barton and yourself, is there?"

"Of course not." Natasha replied, lips twitching in amusement at his concern. "He is a friend."

"Hmm, I'd hope so." He smiled gently, his grasp around her waist tightening ever so slightly.

"What are you reading?" She inquired, looking over the pages he had scattered over his desk.

"History of Asgard." He replied, chuckling slightly. "A rather dreary and monotonous read, though it is very… informative."

"Why are you bothering with it?" Natasha laughed, flipping through the pages interestedly.

"It goes into detail of the history of the monarch, of noblemen, court members. I thought I should educate myself a little more with my families past." He held Natasha's hand in place, stopping her from flipping through anymore pages and making him lose his place. "One day, you shall be written into this book, as the Queens Lady in Waiting. You are a favourite of hers, no doubt you shall be mentioned. Perhaps they will even draw your portrait."

"I shouldn't think so." She said quietly, a small smile on her lips. It wasn't just the mention of the queen that set Natasha on edge, but also the tome that Loki was studying. She didn't know much about what she was supposed to be distracting him from, but she knew she had to keep Loki from discovering the secrets that were hidden in the history of the realm. If Loki was studying The History of Asgard, surely that was something she could not allow him to do. She adjusted her sitting on his lap, so that she sat astride him, arms around his neck. "Why don't we do something a little more fun?"

There was certainly no hesitation from Loki, as he hoisted her up so that she sat on the desk, feathering kisses down her neck. His lips trailed up to her mouth, the kisses turning feral as he hiked up her skirt, pushing her knees aside to grant him more access to her. The proof of his arousal rubbed against her core, straining against his breeches. Her hands curled around the fabric of his tunic, scrunching it up in her hands and pulling him closer to her. He held her thigh's tightly, pulling her towards him, her legs dangling off the edge of the desk. "Natasha." He moaned in her ear, sending bolts of pleasure between her legs.

She grinned at her success, reaching down to palm the hardness in his trousers, and his moans became louder, more palpable. She removed the laces of his breeches, slowly at first, but considering her own need for what was to come, she quickened her pace until his breeches slipped down to his knees. He pushed into her in one fast thrust, and she covered her mouth to conceal her scream of pleasure. Loki reached up and tore her hand away from her lips just soon enough that he heard the end of her pleasure filled cry. "Let me hear it." He hissed, thrusting into her again, this time harder so that she cried out again, louder.

"Someone will discover us." She whispered against his lips, voice breaking with the sensation of Loki inside of her.

"Let them." He replied, his pupils blown wide as he captured her mouth into a kiss and bucking his hips to push inside her again and again.

She fell back onto the desk, her back arching as he gripped her hips, pounding into her in the most raw and coarse manner, yet it was the best sensation she had ever experienced. Her hands scrambled on the desk for something to hold onto, as her body rocked against the desk. In doing so she managed to push numbers of pages off the table, hands 'accidentally' scrunching them up in her many fits of pleasure.

She moaned his name, over and over like a prayer on her lips. Her orgasm came crashing down upon her, her back arching, fingernails scratching the desks surface, and stars exploding behind her eyes as she screamed. The sound was just enough to tip Loki over the edge, and he cursed and shouted, spilling inside of her as she writhed beneath him.

Panting, she sat back up, relishing in the feel of him still inside of her. He kissed her passionately, forehead resting against hers.

"I am betrothed you know." He murmured quietly. His hands stroked her arms tenderly, his green eyes seeking out her own.

"I know."

"I wish I wasn't."

"Okay."


End file.
